


Forget Me Not

by AleishaDreams



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Never Met, Angst, Fluff, Forget Me Not, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-12
Updated: 2015-09-12
Packaged: 2018-04-20 11:19:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 32,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4785434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AleishaDreams/pseuds/AleishaDreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The river is wide and in the middle of it stands a little islet. It has a contorted tree, tall grass, and some bushes. But what attract Haruka’s attention are some blue flowers he has never seen before.</p><p>They are relatively small, with blue and purple petals that seem to glow with the moonlight above them.</p><p>“It’s dangerous to be so close to the river.”</p><p>A voice he doesn’t know talks behind him and his heart skips a beat in fear. Haruka immediately stands up and turns around, to be greeted by another man.</p><p>“O—oh, sorry, I didn’t want to scare you.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forget Me Not

**Author's Note:**

> I'm finally able to post this story, after half a year of writing and planning.
> 
> When Haru's birthday merchandise was announced with his pretty flower crown, I at first thought the flowers were Forget-Me-Nots. I investigated a little about these flowers and their meaning, and I found out there's a legend for them.
> 
> If you have been following me on twitter for a while, you should know how this story goes! Because I pretty much livetweeted this story back then HA.
> 
> Thanks for taking your time to read my story, and I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> Unbeta'd.

If this young man had to choose a favorite season, he would definitely choose the rain season. The thick gray clouds above in the sky, the soft and lulling rumble of the thunders in the distance, and the addictive perfume of wet soil and plants it’s just too attractive for this man of blue eyes and black hair to resist.

Not to mention that he also feels like the rain is his sole connection with the outside world. Him being enclosed since birth in this big mansion, under the vigilant shadow of his father who is a feudal sir, he doesn’t know what the world looks like beyond the tall walls surrounding his so little universe.

But the rain is his link. Rain happens everywhere at the same time. If it’s raining in his mansion, it surely is raining in that little town that his servants sometimes go to replenish the mansion’s necessities. It’s the only thing he shares with the outside world and he treasures it dearly.

His room is in an upper floor, so watching the sunset from there is easy. The sun going down is practically everything he can see as his living place is surrounded by a sea of tall trees. Every time he sees the hot orange painting the sky, he feels like it’s a reminder of how trapped he actually is.

The name he was given at the moment he was born is Nanase Haruka, and he wants to escape from this cage.

So, when the moonlight baths the forest and the stars begin to shine, Haruka decides to make use of his silent figure and nature to get outside of the eternally cold and frigid mansion. His father would be so furious to know what a lazy security is guarding their family household.

But that doesn’t matter to Haruka and every worry in his mind dissipates the moment the cold wind caresses his untouched skin. The air feels more fresh but Haruka doesn’t know if it’s because he felt so trapped inside those walls or because it indeed is. He doesn’t plan on actually running away, he just wants to taste what freedom feels like; to feel, to touch, to run, and to walk without anyone looking for him or telling him to stop. He just wants to be a normal human for a little while.

Close to the mansion lies a river, the current is flowing strongly because of the recent rains. Haruka crouches and submerges his hand on the water. It feels cold to the skin, and it’s hitting it with force. The dark-haired man removes his hand from the current and it shimmers with the little crystal pearls of water that remain on his skin.

He doesn’t know how to swim. Swimming isn’t something that the people of his kind should do. Swimming is for people who have to swim in order to fish or to get water. Haruka doesn’t need any of that because all he has to do is ask for it and it will be given to him, without question or delay.

The river is wide and in the middle of it stands a little islet. It has a contorted tree, tall grass, and some bushes. But what attract Haruka’s attention are some blue flowers he has never seen before.

They are relatively small, with blue and purple petals that seem to glow with the moonlight above them.

“It’s dangerous to be so close to the river.”

A voice he doesn’t know talks behind him and his heart skips a beat in fear. Haruka immediately stands up and turns around, to be greeted by another man.

“O—oh, sorry, I didn’t want to scare you.”

The man smiles apologetically, and he seems embarrassed for some reason. Blue eyes travel all over the man’s body. He’s tall, with skin kissed by the sun, wild brown hair taken in a little ponytail, and the greenest eyes Haruka has ever seen in his life. He’s holding a torch in a hand that makes his skin to look warm and golden. He’s wearing simple clothes, so he must be some countryman from the town at the foot of the mountain.

“But it really is dangerous to be so close to the river…” the man continues talking, and Haruka can feel those green eyes moving to his clothes, hair and finally blue eyes. “You aren’t from here, are you? It’s the first time I’ve seen you.”

Haruka doesn’t respond to just glare at him.

The tall man’s green eyes widen a bit in surprise, but then his face relaxes with a soft smile. Smiles are weird on Haruka’s world, everybody smiles but no one is being honest with them. For some reason, Haruka can see just how honest and sincere this smile is, and it makes him feel nervous.

“Are you lost?”

The one with blue eyes doesn’t answer, and isn’t planning on doing so. This doesn’t seem to bother the countryman, because he keeps smiling. Haruka looks around to realize he doesn’t have anywhere to run off if necessary, the man of green eyes is far but could easily caught Haruka if he desires so.

“I won’t hurt you,” the other man interrupts his thoughts, like he has read them. “It’s just that you look so out of place in here, with your fancy clothes.”

The man scratches the back of his neck with a hand, still smiling as if he himself isn’t out of place for being near the river under the moonlight, in the middle of the forest and close to the feudal mansion.

“Ah, are you the son of the Lord Nanase?”

It seems the countryman finally discovered the truth. Haruka gulps again. This countryman could be dangerous. What if he decides to take him hostage? And then ask for retribution? What if he takes Haruka back to the mansion and Haruka’s father gets mad?

“My name is Makoto,” the green-eyed man shares the answer to a question Haruka never did, “What’s yours?”

Of course Haruka doesn’t answer to this. He just wants to be alone and to go back to the safety of his mansion. He should run for it.

With this decision in mind, Haruka starts running past this man whose name is Makoto but quickly trips over his too heavy clothes and clumsy feet. To his luck, a strong arm catches him in the air, preventing him from hitting his face against the hard soil. Blue eyes open again and turn to meet the green ones.

It’s the greenest green Haruka has ever seen. They look so out of this world with all the shimmering they have, like a thousand night skies are sleeping in them.

Makoto caught him so easily and without breaking a sweat; Haruka can feel the hard and strong muscle of the arm against his torso even with clothes in the way. His heart begins to beat furiously because Haruka isn’t supposed to have contact with anyone, much less with a stranger in the middle of the woods.

“Are you alright?” the man asks him after what it feels like a frozen eternity of looking into each other’s eyes. “Your clothes aren’t made for running, are they?”

The brunette has the guts to chuckle and Haruka feels offended. How dare this simple countryman make fun of him?

With a push, Haruka frees himself of the holding and runs away, careful of not tripping again. He doesn’t look back when the stranger tells him to wait.

✿

The sun enters through the window, showering the floor in its light. The room is large, the walls are decorated with classical ink paintings reflecting the wild sea, while other paintings are images of the sun itself hiding behind a tall and grand mountain. The furniture is of hard and dark wood. In a corner is a little table in which lays a small mirror. Expensive and intricate vases pose on different bureaus, some of them have flowers and plants and others are empty just for decoration.

In the middle of all of this, is a futon with a blue quilt. It has been placed recently in there by a servant, ready to let the young man to finally leave himself to the world of dreams and secrets. But Haruka has another plan.

Under the silent dark sky of the night, Haruka escapes once again from the cage he was born in. This time his body feels lighter as he’s wearing less bulky clothes, a simple striped blue yukata, whose cloth shines against the soft candlelight when he was on his room. The obscure forest welcomes him with its eternal silence.

The young man is used to silence. The mansion he lives in stays on a silent state almost every day, only murmurs and whispers dare to make noise inside its walls. That kind of silence makes Haruka’s skin tremble uncomfortably. It’s an eerie and human-made silence that feels like a bandage on the lips.

But this silence, the silence that belongs to the forest, is natural and beautiful. It’s easy to let yourself fall into it, to let the silence consume you slowly because it feels warm and welcoming.

Haruka continues to walk between the tall trees and just when the moon is in the highest point up in the sky, the strong song coming from the river reaches his ears. His blue eyes are graced with the sight of the clear water, flowing downhill like a perpetual parade with no audience to witness such beauty.

With confident steps, Haruka gets closer to the river to crouch and touch the water. The coldness bites his hand again but Haruka doesn’t remove it. He wants to feel the water, the water that it’s free and hasn’t been domesticated like the water he has at home. The cold and wild water against the warm and tamed his servants always bring him to bath.

Using both hands, Haruka cups water between them and drinks a little. A cold wave floods down his throat and rests down in his middle. It feels refreshing and as if Haruka’s inner body is being cleared and purified. He drinks even more until the water in his hands disappears with a last sip.

The river flows in a place where tall trees don’t grow, so the moonlight kisses Haruka’s skin. Blue eyes look up to the sky to appreciate the round and glowing moon, surrounded by the glimmering stars that try their hardest to illuminate the mortal soil under them. The sky is infinite and Haruka would love to dive in it.

His eyes turn down, directly to the islet from the previous nights and he discovers that the blue flowers are still there.

Haruka is nothing but a mere human. He’s chained to his life and he won’t be freed any day soon. His destiny has been dictated from the moment he cried for the first time in this land where the sun raised. Something inside him whispers to his ear to immerse his hand again in the water, so he does, and the cold sensation travels thoroughly his body.

If only he could swim.

“You came back.”

The same voice from yesterday startles him and makes him jump to his feet. Haruka quickly turns around and all he can see is green.

The man from last night stands before him, still with a smile and shimmering eyes. He’s closer to Haruka this time. At what moment this man got here? And why Haruka didn’t notice him?

“But I see you haven’t learnt,” the green-eyed man says with a serious voice. The hand that isn’t holding the torch is on his hip, and his eyebrows are creased. He looks determined when he says, “This river is full of jealous spirits.”

Haruka gazes down, seeing that his tabi have a little dirt.

“But…”

The voice again attracts his attention, looking at the tall man whom now seems shy, with a faint tint of red on his cheeks but still with the smile that never ends.

“I’m sure someone as beautiful as you would make even the gods jealous.”

A sudden hotness crosses Haruka’s face. It isn’t the first time that someone has called him beautiful, it’s nothing new to be the receiver of poems dedicated to him, to his blue eyes, and to his skin. But in Haruka’s world it means nothing. Words travel back and forth without any problem. Empty oaths, promises and flatteries between people who always smile but doesn’t believe in the sincerity of the gesture.

“Let’s start again, alright?” The man takes a step further and Haruka freezes, tightening his fists. Seeing this, the brunette goes back on his foot. “As I said yesterday, my name is Makoto. What is your name?”

Haruka doesn’t respond. His eyes wander to the black sky for a second to later go back to the blue flowers behind him. The flowers are dancing, with the cold wind as their partner in the soundless waltz.

If only he could swim.

“It’s fine if you don’t want to tell me.”

Being brought back to the present, the blue eyes look at the stranger of name Makoto.

“It’s probably for the best, right? I can see you are…” Makoto moves his left hand a little – the one that isn’t carrying the torch – as if exposing something. “Really important.”

Silence fills the air between them. Blue eyes never leaving the green ones. Makoto’s smile never stopping.

Loneliness is something Haruka knows well. He has lots of servants to his disposition and he can order them to accompany him if he desires so. He can request for the best musician to play a song exclusively for him. He attends to dinners and tea parties with his parents to be surrounded of high society. And yet, solitude is no stranger to Haruka.

So it’s weird to think and to feel that this stranger in the middle of the vast woods can bring something that Haruka can’t achieve inside his mansion.

“How about this?” Makoto says suddenly and Haruka’s heart jumps. “I walk back and you move away from the river.”

The brunette takes a few steps back as said, but when seeing that the man of dark hair doesn’t move a centimeter he moves backwards even more. Finally, Haruka steps forwards and away from the water furiously flowing behind him. Makoto looks evidently relieved at this.

“Why do you come here?” Makoto asks as if Haruka has actually answered to any of his questions and words. “I mean, it’s pretty and all, but don’t you think it’s a little weird to come here in the night?”

Haruka could easily retort that question, but decides against it. To his surprise, Makoto sits down in the grass looking really pleased, with open legs, and plants the torch in the soil with ease.

“I come here every night to pray to the spirits.” He shares with a smile, and then his eyes turn up to the sky. “I know there isn’t any temple around here, but…”

His voice stops for a moment, and Haruka could almost swear that the other man is sighing under his breath, trying to conceal something.

“But this place is nice. It’s really calm, isn’t it?” He looks at Haruka but, as usual, the dark-haired man doesn’t say anything. “It’s raining season, so the grass is greener and the flowers can bloom even more. But the river gets stronger. You should have come when it’s not raining season, the river is more serene and you could even swim in it.”

“You know how to swim?”

Haruka asks before thinking better, covering his mouth with a hand when realizing so. He closes his eyes and holds his breath. It’s not intelligent to talk with strangers, much less with lousy countrymen in the middle of the dark. But the moment the brunette mentioned swimming and bathing in the river, the lock in his lips disappeared by a magic act. Haruka opens his eyes to look at the other man, who is staring at him with wide eyes that, somehow, are shimmering even more than the stars up in the sky.

“Y—yes, I know,” Makoto stutters when he recovers his voice to talk again. Why is he even stuttering? But it makes Haruka relax for some reason. “I don’t do it often anymore, but I know how.”

The lips of the young feudal man are sealed again, so he just stares at the other man. Makoto must have seen him change his weight on his feet because then he says, “If you sit down, I can tell you about it.”

Blue eyes look to the side, then up to the sky, and finally to the floor. He’s unsure of what to do. He probably shouldn’t sit with a stranger, he probably should simply go back to his mansion, but then again he probably shouldn’t be outside of the walls.

He sits down carefully, not used to the uneven floor with tiny rocks and moist grass; it honestly feels uncomfortable on his legs. Makoto, on the other side, looks like he belongs to this atmosphere; with his wild hair, tanned and rough skin, and strong-looking hands over his knees. He’s so different from what Haruka is. The dark-haired man now feels ridiculous of bringing a yukata, even if it’s a simple one, to the forest.

“I’m guessing you don’t know how to swim?” Makoto asks him and it brings Haruka’s blue eyes to the green ones, “It’s not that surprising, now that I think about it. You clearly are too rich for that.”

Haruka doesn’t know if he should feel offended.

“It’s not that hard, actually. The water practically does everything for you; you just have to keep floating and moving.”

Haruka would love to ask what if feels like to swim.

“But, if you are not careful, it could be dangerous. Mainly if the river is like that.” Makoto moves his head a little in the direction of the body of water. “If you are patient enough, I could teach you how to swim.”

His heart starts bumping rapidly at the promise. Makoto laughs a little and Haruka glares at him, a silent way of demanding an explanation on what’s so funny.

“Sorry,” the other man says, covering his mouth to hide his still smiling lips, “It’s just that your eyes started to shine when I told you that. You looked really excited.”

A hot sensation appears on Haruka’s face yet again, turning his head to the side in hopes of hiding the red color that is probably in his cheeks. He knows it’s useless when Makoto chuckles again but this time he has the decency to try to do it silently.

“So, are you really the son of Lord Nanase?” Makoto leans forward and Haruka can practically read the word curious all over his face. Again, Haruka doesn’t answer but this doesn’t discourage the taller man, “How is life inside the wall? The house looks huge from here. Have you ever got lost in it?”

Haruka bites his inner cheek because no way in hell he’s admitting that he has. Just once.

“Ah, I should talk to you with respect, right? I’ll call you ‘Sir’ if that’s alright.”

Haruka just stares at him. That should be enough of an answer.

“It’s so weird to see you, Sir. I’ve heard rumors about you but I never thought I would actually meet you…”

Do the townsfolk talk about him? It’s no secret that the Feudal Lord has a family with an only son, but it has been decided that neither Haruka nor his mother would leave the mansion unless strictly necessary. Not even his father leaves the building that much, only for meetings with other Lords or other important people. Why was it decided like that? Safety, Haruka guesses, and because he doesn’t have a real reason to go out. Not when everything is handed to him at the first hint of a request.

“You are…” Makoto keeps talking, “You aren’t that different from what I imagined, though.”

And what did Makoto imagine, anyways?

“You know? When I first saw you yesterday I thought you were a spirit.” He laughs at the idea, “But then I thought that it’s impossible for a spirit to look like you.”

What is that supposed to mean?

A yawn escapes from Makoto’s lips but the man tries to hide it with a hand. It’s just then that Haruka discovers himself feeling tired as well.

“It’s late, we should call it a day—night,” another chuckle is heard, and Makoto stands up.

Before Haruka can do anything, Makoto jogs to him and offers his hand. The blue eyes go back and forth between the hand and the green orbs of Makoto.

“Uhm,” the brunette looks nervous after a moment of being observed, “I just thought… you needed help to stand up. You look really uncomfortable sitting there, Sir.”

And he is. Haruka can feel the tiny rocks sticking to his legs through the thin layer of his yukata. But of course he would never admit this.

He decides to hold to his pride and stands up by himself, immediately regretting it when he feels his legs wobbling a little but if there’s something he has learnt in his life with high society is to feign wellness. Makoto drops his hand to his side, and – dares Haruka think – looking disappointed.

“Do you need my help to get back at the mansion? Ah, wait, I guess it wouldn’t be correct of me to accompany you…” Makoto looks at the ground and for some reason it pains Haruka to see those green eyes shining less. Green finds blue once again before speaking, “Then I guess I’ll be seeing you?...”

It’s a question full of hope and promise. Haruka knows that he should be offended at such thing. How dare this simple man to ask something like that? To him, Nanase Haruka, son of the Lord Nanase? How dare this countryman to even think that Haruka would answer such lousy and disgraceful question?

But he finds himself nodding nonetheless, and it brings such a wide smile to the other man that Haruka’s gut starts to feel weird.

“Maybe someday you will tell me your name?”

Haruka doesn’t answer, in its place he just starts walking in the direction to the way back to the mansion.

Unlike last night, he stops for a moment and looks back. He finds the green eyes looking at him with a sentiment that Haruka can’t place a name on it, but if he had to guess it would be “expectation”.

✿

Haruka doesn’t go back to the river the next night, or the next one, or the one after that. The water is calling him with a song full of temptation, and he feels like a moth flying to the light of the fire without any regards of danger. He wants to feel the cold body of the river against his skin, he wants to drink from it to purify and clear the slumber that decided to live inside his chest, and he wants to see those flowers dance with the wind that caresses his kin and plays with his dark hair.

Unfortunately, he’s afraid. He’s afraid of the green, of the smile, and of the longing eyes that looked at him go away. And yet sometimes he looks at his empty hand and wonders what it would feel like to have it hold by the stronger grip of the stranger near the river.

He doesn’t go back to the river for the next seven moons.

✿

By the eighth moon, the subdued lullaby coming from the river is too much for Haruka to resist. He lets the alluring song to guide him through the darkness of the forest; between the tall and imposing trees that don’t permit to look every star in the sky, and between the gentle touches and caresses the long and green grass gives to the light blue yukata he’s dressing for the night to see.

But what a surprise he gets when in the distance he can see a warm light. It looks inviting and welcoming of whomever in need approaches. Nonetheless, Haruka isn’t someone in need nor he wants to be invited by the tempting light; so, with precautious steps, he gets closer but hides behind a tall tree.

In the middle of the night, there lies the countryman who presented himself as Makoto from the previous moons and nights. He’s sitting with open legs and his hands supporting his weight behind him, the green eyes focusing in the black and starry sky above his head. Why is he here? Haruka had decided to go out earlier just to evade that smile that makes him feel out of himself.

Perhaps Haruka stares too long and too much, because suddenly Makoto turns his way and catches him in the act. Haruka tries to cover behind the tree, but the countryman soon is on his feet and smiling, calling him.

“Sir!” His voice resonates in the empty forest, “You finally came back!”

With his back against the tree, Haruka can feel the rough crust through his clothes and behind his head. His heart is jumping like a rabbit that tries to escape. Yet, Haruka doesn’t know from what exactly he wants to escape.

“Sir?” Makoto insists, his voice now less confident, “Ah, you weren’t expecting me to be here, right?”

The grass and the soil crunches under the brunette’s feet as he walks closer and closer to the tree; Haruka can hear him.

“You see, I was waiting for you…”

The steps are so close, they are slow and cautious against how fast and careless Haruka’s heart is running, crashing in his chest.

“Because I really wanted to see you again, Sir…”

Suddenly everything goes silent. No more steps, no more talking and no more countryman’s voice. Still, Haruka’s heart doesn’t obey the silence and continues to bump loudly in his ears. At the abrupt change of atmosphere the dark-haired man slowly turns his head to peek to the tree’s side, just to be welcomed by green.

“Hello, Sir,” Makoto greets him with a soft smile and a cock of his head. He has his chest against the tree, also peeking to its side to see Haruka.

Haruka finds himself unable to break apart from the green eyes that look at him as if they could read his thoughts, heart and soul.

“But I can go away and leave you alone, Sir. If that’s what you desire for.”

Being the only son of a Feudal Lord means a lot of things. His life is like a clean piece of parchment. At one side there’s a list of everything he **has** to do in order to be a respectful member of the high society; “do not talk without being talked to” is one of those things, along with “always present a stoic mask”, it’s a long list that Haruka had to memorize since the moment he started to walk with his wobbly feet by himself. Since the moment he learnt how to talk. At the other side of the paper it’s a list of things he **can** do; it’s a much shorter and scrawny list of things he can decide to do so.

But let’s not get tricked by this list, as it appears to be something that permits Haruka to do as he wants, this list was meticulously revised by the strict eye of his father. In this list is “painting”, for example, because painting is something high society can relate to. But he, if Haruka could, would also add “swimming” to this list. But swimming isn’t something high society should do.

In conclusion, Haruka isn’t sure of what deciding by himself actually feels like.

“Sir?”

The voice next to him wakes him up from his deep stupor. Haruka blinks twice and then looks away from the other man’s eyes. This, somehow, brings a bubbly giggle out of the countryman’s lips, who now steps backwards and away from the tree.

“You aren’t used to talking, right?”

Haruka reddens behind the tree, embarrassed at how obvious his lack of social skills is. He’s used to people not talking to him, to people ignoring him because talking to his father is way more important – and interesting, Haruka guesses – but in no moment he ever felt excluded. It’s their problem if they don’t talk to him, he even likes it when they don’t talk to him, because getting into a conversation with such people drains all of his energy out. It’s as if a devilish spirit decides to slowly drink away from him.

“Alright, I’m gonna sit here and you can do whatever you want.”

With that said, Makoto walks back to the middle of the light to sit down.

For what seems an eternity, Haruka doesn’t move from his safe place. Who does this simple man think he is? Ordering Haruka around as if he has any right to do so. Surely he’s expecting him to go away, but in reality what the dark-haired man wants is to stay and look at the moon, at the stars, at the blue flowers on the little islet inside the river.

“For a moment I thought I would never see you again.”

The silence of the forest is broken with the brunette’s voice. Voice that gives Haruka a shudder when listening to it. Haruka peeks around the tree again. All he can see of Makoto is his back.

“You stopped coming suddenly… I thought ‘maybe he was a spirit!’ and got really scared.” A laugh is heard at the end of the comment, “But I wanted to make sure, so I didn’t stop coming.”

Why is this lousy man so interested in him? Why does he insist so much to meddle in Haruka’s business? Is he doing it because he’s the son of Lord Nanase?

“You seem… uhm.” His voice becomes nervous out of nowhere, as if he’s unsure if he should continue with his speech, “You seem bored, Sir.”

Bored? What a weird form to describe him, Haruka thinks, but at the same time… it’s so accurate. Haruka is bored of his life, he’s bored of everything that has to do with it, he’s bored at the same everyday inside the mansion, and mainly he’s bored with himself.

A last puff of breathe escapes from his thin lips, feeling rather annoyed, and then he goes out of his hiding place to find that Makoto is looking at him again. The man is still sitting with his back towards Haruka, but he turned his head to the side to be able to lock his green eyes with the blue ones. If Makoto wants to say something, he doesn’t, instead he keeps the curve of a smile in his lips as Haruka slowly walks closer to the light.

Haruka sits again on the floor, this time having the precaution of sitting over a patch of grass, inside the circle of the torch’s light but far away enough from Makoto. It’s still uncomfortable, but his perpetual and unresponsive face is enough to feign wellness; or so he thought, because Makoto starts talking next.

“If you sit like that your legs are gonna get weak,” He smiles and proceeds to talk, “Like last time.”

His body tenses. Is this man seriously teasing him? Besides, did he actually notice Haruka’s wobbly legs from last time? It hurts Haruka’s pride to know that this simple man read through his façade so easily.

“It’s better to sit like this, like me.”

Haruka looks at the other man’s legs to see that they are crossed in a lotus form. His eyebrows crease. Men only sit like that when they are in a disrespectful environment, like a sake house or gambling. Maybe a plain man like Makoto doesn’t understand such thing – he maybe even engage in such disgraceful acts –.

But Haruka guesses for this one time it would be fine, right? The only witness would be this countryman and no one would believe him in the case of deciding to tell everyone that Nanase Haruka, son of the Feudal Lord Nanase and next heir of the Nanase family, sat in the middle of the forest like a man in a brothel.

Standing up again, Haruka this time sits down with crossed legs. Thankfully his yukata is long and big enough to completely cover his legs except for his ankles. Makoto just observes the process in silence until the blue-eyed man is seated.

“There, isn’t it better?” Makoto asks, but Haruka doesn’t give him the benefit of an answer. He simply looks away, to the blue flowers on the islet.

“I don’t know what those flowers are called.” The brunette adds, and Haruka looks at him. Makoto is now looking at the flowers. “It’s the first time I’ve seen them, actually. But they are really pretty, aren’t they?”

The green eyes return to look at him.

“Do you want me to tell you stories? I’m good at it, my little siblings used to ask me all the time to tell them one before sleeping.”

Haruka just stares at him, his facial expression never changing from the neutral one he always carries. Why would Haruka even want to be told a story? Not to mention a children’s story? Maybe Makoto doesn’t have any idea on how to make time pass, and that’s why he suggested it. At any case, Makoto can do whatever he wants. As an answer, Haruka lowers his blue eyes to see his thumbs that he moves in circles slowly. Makoto chuckles softly before beginning talking.

With the moon and the stars as the only witnesses, with the air playing between the trees and messing with their leaves to make music, with the wild and crystal water of the river and the blue and unknown flowers as audience; Makoto begins his story.

It’s the story of a young man that falls in love with the moon.

◯

The man loves the night. It’s tranquil and it’s calm, and even if bad and jealous spirits roam around the shadows of the night, the man still loves it.

He loves the night because he loves the moon. He loves its light, and he loves its color. The man knows he shouldn’t love something so grand and unreachable, but alas he can’t help it when every night his eyes travel to the sky in search of the symbol of his love. He can’t help it when his hand writes prose and poems depicting how beautiful the moon is. He can’t help it when his breathe only exists to love the moon.

One fateful night, when the man is crying because of the burning feelings inside his heart, the moon talks to him for the first time.

 _“What is wrong, human?”_ The moon asks, _“Usually at night you are smiling and singing, but now you are only crying and sobbing.”_

Impressed that the moon is talking to him, the man cleans away the tears clouding his eyes and looks up to his beloved.

 _“Moon, oh, my Moon,”_ he cries softly, _“Every night I sing for you, and every night I lay my eyes on you. I sigh, and I whisper, and I yearn for you. And yet, I know deep in my heart that this love I have for you won’t be able to touch the perfection you were born with. Oh, Moon, why must you be so far?”_

Crystalline tears roll down by the man’s reddened cheeks. The moon stays put and silent, just looking at how the man down in the land of humans falls in despair.

 _“And who are you to love me?”_ The moon questions, and the human looks again at the sky.

_“I’m just a simple human, born from the soil I’m stepping on, who doesn’t deserve to be looked by you. Oh, my Moon, my beloved Moon.”_

_“Oh, simple human,”_ the moon’s voice resonated in the sky, traveling all the way down to the man’s ears like a whisper sung in a temple. _“You aren’t one to decide who should love me and who should not.”_

_“Then tell me, my Moon, do you deem me worthy of loving you?”_

The moon guards silence for what seems to be the eternity itself, leaving the young man about to cry and sob again because the moon ignoring him is too much for his heart and soul to deal with. Until, finally, the moon talks again.

 _“I do not know,”_ the moon replies, _“As I don’t know what truly lies in your heart.”_

_“I could sing for you, my Moon.”_

_“Words are the wind’s favorite appetizers, and so it will eat them in no time to be lost in darkness.”_

_“I could write poems for you, My Moon.”_

_“Words written on paper are forgotten as soon as time advances, because they no longer belong to your heart but to the paper.”_

_“Then, my perfect and beloved Moon, tell me how to prove myself and I’ll do so.”_

Silence invades the man’s ears as the moon quiets again. This time the man feels his gut turning around like snakes fighting for the scared mouse.

_“I shall propose you a challenge, simple human.”_

◯

Haruka blinks multiple times before realizing Makoto has stopped talking definitely, no longer looking at him nor at the sky, but to the floor. His green eyes being hidden behind the long brown fangs from his hair. Why did he stop?

“Sorry,” Makoto says out of the sudden, causing Haruka to arch an eyebrow. “But I can’t think of how to continue the story.”

Haruka’s only answer is a puff of air coming out of his lips, that doesn’t go unnoticed by the young countryman. Makoto giggles at the childish expression of Haruka.

“I can tell you the rest of the story later, Sir. If you decide to come again and honor me with your presence.”

It’s not that Haruka is actually interested in the story, of course not, but leaving him in the dark of what happens next is just plain rude from Makoto’s part.

“If it’s not daring of me asking, Sir. Have you ever known what love feels like inside your heart?”

Haruka looks away as soon as the question leaves Makoto’s lips.

Of course he hasn’t.

Falling in love is something that his people don’t do. Falling in love is something that peasants do. Falling in love is something that only dreamers dare to hope. He can’t fall in love, in no way. He can’t fall in love because that’s not part of his life. The life that he has had decided since the moment he was born.

His parents have never mentioned something about a fiancée, but it would be ridiculous to think that there isn’t a young maiden waiting in a white dress and with red lips for him inside a temple. It’s just a matter of time for when his parents give him the news. Haruka doesn’t care what this young woman will look like, he doesn’t even care what her name is going to be. It doesn’t matter because it’s still going to happen, no matter what.

Makoto must have read his expression as his smile falters for a second, to later return as if it never stopped existing.

“I guess you haven’t, Sir.”

Why does Makoto even care about it? His and Haruka’s lives are so different and distant, that not even the sky could be used to measure it. Haruka was born in a crib made of jade with sheets of soft silk and gold thread while Makoto probably was born in a blanket of simple white cotton in the floor.

Haruka’s birth was celebrated with a big and fancy dinner, music, and elegant geishas brought from Kyoto. Makoto’s people probably celebrated but with a faint hint of worry and sorrow in his parents’ hearts to feed a new bright life.

The son of the Feudal Lord isn’t as ignorant and oblivious as the people around him like to think. He’s so silent in his nature that sometimes the servants don’t notice his presence and their mouths won’t stop talking about how difficult life is outside the tall walls of their mansion.

So, it’s weird to think that Makoto would care or find interesting whatever happens on Haruka’s non-existent love life.

“I haven’t, neither,” Makoto shares with a sigh, gripping his ankles with both hands after speaking. “Sometimes I wonder with who I’ll end up in the future. Maybe the daughter of a farmer…”

It might be Haruka’s imagination, but Makoto doesn’t look exactly excited with the idea of marrying this “imaginary daughter” in a future. Perhaps the young countryman doesn’t want to get married yet, or maybe there are no women who attract his attention for something deeper than cordial friendship in his little town.

“Sometimes I think there might be something wrong with me,” the brunette continues speaking. This honest line calls Haruka’s complete attention to the other man. “Something wrong”? And is Makoto really going to tell him, Haruka, about it?

Guessing that letting Makoto talk won’t hurt anyone, Haruka just stares at Makoto who is looking at the ground. The green-eyed man chuckles a little.

“I think…” Makoto looks nervous out of nowhere, as if he’s having second thoughts of sharing his secrets with a complete stranger. “I think I’d like to not get married.”

He can’t help it when one of his eyebrows arches, Makoto notices this because then he’s laughing softly.

“I know, I know. It’s weird.”

The green eyes look up to the dark sky. It’s plastered with bright stars that reflect on Makoto’s eyes, making them look as if a whole universe is sleeping on the green sea.

“I just don’t see myself married with a woman.”

Realization covers immediately Haruka’s mind. His body feels hot all of a sudden with a hard knot at the base of his stomach. Blue eyes look at the ground, patches of green grass surrounding Haruka’s body. For an unknown reason Haruka feels himself reddening on his cheeks.

He takes a peek to Makoto, who is still looking at the stars. It seems the countryman hasn’t realized what his nature is. Haruka doesn’t blame him considering that it’s a weird concept.

A man preferring the company of other men isn’t anything new. Samurais adopt pupils, for example, and it’s everyone’s knowledge that their relationship sometimes goes beyond that of the art of war. But usually with time those kinds of relationships simply break when the pupils can fly on their own and doesn’t need their teacher’s wings; then they get married, have children, and form a life around their job and family.

Still, Haruka thinks that sometimes those lives are based on lies, disguised as normalcy, when the true nature of these men lies just beneath their skin. Haruka himself has been the receptor of multiple older men’s, associates of his father, advances – Haruka has not accepted anyone –, promising sweet nothings and eternity behind closed doors while their wives and kids are waiting for them on their household.

He knows those oaths are full of anything else but honest love because they stink of lust rather than true adoration. At any case, it’s not like Haruka would accept their sentiments even if they were real. He has no business wishing for real love in his life.

For a moment he finds himself wishing Makoto finds his indicated person, and that that person accepts him as he is.

By his part, Haruka doesn’t know where exactly he stands. He has no desire to marry a woman, but he guesses that’s more about him not accepting his destiny rather than dislike for that gender. After all, he has never found someone worthy of his attention nor he should.

“My parents look so happy together, though,” Makoto interrupts Haruka’s thoughts, “So maybe getting married isn’t that bad… I mean, I could have kids of my own.”

With every single sentence coming out of Makoto’s lips, Haruka understands just how distant their worlds are.

“I bet your children will be as beautiful as you are, Sir.”

The green eyes are fixed on him; the stars still shimmering on the green plain. Haruka discovers he can’t look away from the bright light at the same time that his stomach lurch with something he doesn’t understand.

For the next moment both men stay silent without breaking the link between their eyes.

Haruka feels his blood rushing, his heart hitting hard, and his throat dry. He wonders if Makoto is feeling the same when he sees the other man gulp hard.

Whatever is happening inside of Haruka, it intensifies as Makoto stands up to walk over him, again never drifting away his eyes from the blue eyes. Haruka can’t do anything but stare, feeling strangely small next to the man even if he knows that should be normal, as he is sitting.

Curiously, he doesn’t mind feeling small next to Makoto.

“Sir,” the countryman’s voice echoes on his ears, and his heart jumps higher. “It’s time to go.”

A big and strong-looking hand is offered to Haruka. Even then the blue eyes don’t stop looking at the green.

Slowly but without doubt, Haruka lifts his hand to take the other one.

His skin prickles immediately, as if his body was hit by a furious thunder from an angry sky, stealing the precious air out of his lungs. The hand pulls him up easily with a force that Haruka has never experienced before on his body. He feels light as if he is made of feathers instead of body.

It’s so sudden and unexpected that Haruka can’t find his feet and stumbles, only to be received by a strong arm that catches him as if nothing. It’s just then that Haruka looks down, breaking the eye contact.

“Sorry, Sir,” comes from Makoto’s lips as an apology, “You are way lighter than I had thought…”

Haruka gets away from the other man still not looking at him but at the ground, finding his tabi really dirty with soil. Without knowing exactly why, Haruka starts walking rapidly. Maybe it’s his heart that is beating like it wants to run away from his chest to hide in a far away mountain. But in his way Haruka stops, trembling in his place, and clenches his fists.

“Sir, are you al—“

“Haruka.”

The simple murmur of his name sounds like a roar in the middle of the sepulchral silence of the forest.

“Ha… Haruka.” Makoto says with a trembling voice, “I—Is your name Haruka?”

The owner of such name doesn’t reply, he just starts walking again to continue his way back to the mansion. At the back of his head, he can hear in the distance Makoto yelling.

“It’s a beautiful name!”

Makoto’s voice follows him during the rest of the night, just like his heart doesn’t stop trying to escape from his chest.

✿

He isn’t surprised anymore when his feet take him to the river, nor he is surprised when finding warm, golden light next to it. And, in the middle of the image, a man of brown hair, green eyes and wide smile welcomes him the next night.

The brunette talks about his life and what he did in the day. Makoto is the son of a rice farmer – “The best rice of the region!” – so his work always starts before the sun wakes up from its slumber, and finishes when the moon is already bright in the night.

At what moment Makoto rests, Haruka doesn’t know, because Makoto is always waiting for him next to the river to talk with him.

As is his habit, Haruka only listens to whatever Makoto has to say. He sometimes looks around the place to find out that the forest doesn’t change with time. The same trees are there, the same grass is growing, the same blue flowers dance in the islet in the middle of the wild river.

Something that also didn’t change is that Makoto doesn’t call him by his name again, always addressing him by “Sir”. Haruka doesn’t know why, but he feels disappointed because of it.

✿

Days pass until time transforms them into weeks, and their meetings become something of every night. Haruka is now very aware of how the sun slowly makes its way through the light blue sky, to hide behind the tall mountains turning the sky the color of the hot fire and finally to the cold and dark ocean of stars.

Every night the country man receives him with a smile and a conversation. This is the most a person has ever talked to him, even if Haruka doesn’t offer words of his own, but it’s almost impossible to not come back to this river when the young son of the Feudal Lord knows that those green eyes are waiting for him to look at him.

“The rain season has ended,” Makoto says with his eyes looking intensively at the river.

Haruka turns his head to the water that now seems to be tranquil in comparison to the wild roaring song it had a few weeks ago. The blue-eyed young man misses the sound already because he’s sure that it was its lull what attracted him there in the first place. It’s then that Haruka sees that the blue flowers in the islet are also gone.

“Do you know what that means, Sir?”

His attention returns to the green eyes. Makoto is smiling with that beam that is only his, that grin that sometimes makes Haruka’s heart jump higher than necessary. Haruka doesn’t reply as usual but thankfully Makoto is used to that since the beginning.

“It means we could enter the river, Sir.”

Makoto’s voice has a tint of excitement and something else that Haruka can’t quite identify, mainly because his own excitement fills his chest and guts. His eyes immediately look to the water, feeling that his heart is pumping with agitation and expectancy, stronger and louder in his ears, only to be interrupted by a chuckle behind him that obliges Haruka to see the source of said noise.

It’s Makoto who is laughing softly, having the decency to cover his mouth this time, but when he sees Haruka’s pouting lips – wait, no, he is **not** pouting – the bubbly giggle increments.

“Sorry, sorry, Sir,” Makoto apologizes but Haruka can perceive that the countryman isn’t actually sorry, as he continues to laugh between his teeth. “It’s just that you look so excited about it! I’m happy for you.”

Haruka’s eyes look to his hands that are over his lap, fingers interlaced with practiced poise and elegance. There are times where Haruka feels as if Makoto can read his thoughts like an open book, with clear calligraphy and perfect grammar. Not a single stroke of ink out of place and the paper spotless. Sometimes such clarity in his mind for Makoto makes Haruka feel afraid – why does this simple man understand him with ease? – but then again, it’s a welcome feeling on his chest to be accepted and understood so quickly.

Makoto never requests his questions to be answered, not even when he asks directs things. He’s patient, he’s calm, and he’s forgiving. It may be weird to think about a man he barely knows like that, to feel like this with him when he doesn’t know much about his life, but alas this is what Haruka feels and perceives from the weird relationship he is developing with the stranger.

“You can’t swim with a yukata, Sir,” the brunette speaks. “It would be better to only wear a fundoshi… but I don’t know what you would prefer.”

Red color appears on Makoto’s cheeks, lighting his face with obvious embarrassment when he stops looking Haruka to his eyes, drifting his gaze away to the soil like it called his name. Haruka suddenly feels just as embarrassed as Makoto, but the dark-haired man has more experience covering up his emotions and reactions so his face shows nothing except for a burning feeling on his cheeks.

“Ah!” Makoto’s eyes return to the blue ones, bright and green as ever with a clear idea in mind, “Maybe you can wear something else? Like a happi. Do you have one?”

Haruka’s face distorts into a clear confused one with the suggestion. Happis are only for servants, why would Haruka have one? The idea of Makoto not knowing this makes him laugh internally – because he doesn’t laugh loudly. Perhaps Makoto notices something is off, because the blushed color on his face comes back in a second.

“Uhm, I mean, if important people like you actually have one…”

Haruka doesn’t reply, as always, trusting the stranger to read his thoughts as he has learnt to do so. It seems the message is loud and clear because Makoto’s eyes change to reflect understanding and compromise.

“Don’t worry, I can lend you one. Though… it won’t be fancy or anything like you are used to, Sir, so you will have to forgive me.”

Makoto scratches the back of his neck, wearing a nervous smile on his lips.

“How about tomorrow night? If the sky is clear and the moon bright it should be alright for us to enter the water. Ah, and don’t bring anything, I’ll take care of everything.”

Again, Haruka doesn’t reply, but he guesses his eyes are talking for him because Makoto doesn’t stop looking at them.

✿

The next night comes as naturally as the other ones, tranquil, silent and with a touch of cold and melancholy to the heart. The dark sky is adorned by the stars and a bright, round moon that takes out sighs from dreamers and poets all around the land; a moon that becomes witness of whatever is occurring in the dark shade of the shadows of the night, between whisperings and muted movements. Secrets that people pray to stay like that for eternity so their conscience can stay in peace with themselves, the spirits, and the world.

For Haruka, keeping secrets is something he learnt to do since the moment he’s able to talk. “It’s a secret,” his mother told him when he discovered an old letter from her first love between her belongings. “It’s a secret,” his father told him when Haruka found his father’s stash of sweet candy.

“It’s a secret,” his heart tells him the moment he see green eyes focusing on him.

“Are you ready, Sir?” Makoto asks, his lips are curved in a soft smile.

Next to the countryman is the known torch with its fire, alive and illuminating their surroundings with a warm light, a big blanket tied up with a knot lies next to it. Makoto crouches to undo the knot of the blanket, his back facing Haruka who is still standing.

He knows Makoto is talking because his ears can hear him, but it feels so distant for Haruka because his heart is pumping wildly inside of him. His hands are trembling with the slightest of shake but it’s enough to annoy Haruka to no end, he doesn’t like this null control over his own reactions.

Inside the blanket is a pair of happis of green color along with some large, thick-looking fabric.

“These are mine,” Makoto’s voice is finally translated to his ears, “They may look a little big on you, though…”

Makoto’s big hand grabs one of the happis to offer it to Haruka, who takes it after taking a quick look to the brunette’s face.

It’s made of cotton, the color is green but it’s adorned with white lines on the hems. It looks simple and cheap, as one would have guessed, and it’ll be the first time Haruka wears something like this. What would his family think of what Haruka is about to do? His mother probably would faint and his father would get angry.

Blue eyes look up to discover the green ones with their gaze fixed on him. A shudder travels down his spine.

“Ah, you may—uhm…” Makoto looks nervous again. It makes Haruka feel as nervous too. “You should change into this, uhm…”

Haruka can sense Makoto’s intention of looking at everything else but him.

“So, I’ll turn around and you can, you know, change. Sir.”

The brunette does as he says, turning around to give Haruka some privacy. The moment the dark-haired man drops his obi over the blanket, Makoto visibly flinches and makes a sound, something close to a yelp.

Haruka smiles lightly.

Is Makoto nervous of the fact that Haruka is undressing? Maybe Makoto isn’t used to things like these. Neither is Haruka per sé, but he thinks it’s a little ridiculous to feel embarrassed about nakedness when they are the only ones under the bright moon.

To save Makoto from more lousy moments, Haruka quickly changes into the happi that he was gladly borrowed. As Makoto had suspected, the happi looks big on him, to the point of covering to his mid thigh almost touching his knees. Suddenly he feels small inside the big clothes, and it gets overwhelming when a drift of an unknown scent reaches his nose.

It smells of soil, of sun, and something else. It’s not unpleasant. It’s different from what Haruka is used to as all of his clothes smell of perfume and expensive oils. A simple cord that Haruka found in the blanket is what he uses to tie up around his waist to prevent the happi from falling from his body.

Makoto then turns around – maybe he read Haruka’s mind again – and smiles when seeing the smaller man wearing the oversized clothes.

“Ah! Don’t leave your yukata like that! It’ll get wrinkles.” Makoto kneels over the blanket and takes the yukata on his hands, but as he begins to fold it he tenses suddenly while watching the gleaming silk of it.

It must be the first time Makoto sees something as expensive like that yukata this close, getting impressed by the softness of the silk. Haruka sees Makoto’s thumb caressing the fabric for a second before shyly looking up at him.

“It smells nice,” The brunette says with a small voice, after that he clears his throat and looks down to the yukata. “Really nice.”

The burning sensation on Haruka’s cheeks appears again.

The yukata is neatly folded – along with the obi – in no time, so Makoto stands up after grabbing the second happi from the blanket.

“Could you, uhm…”

Haruka just stares at Makoto whose nervous state seems to be increasing with each passing second.

“Sir, could you… turn around?... Please?”

Oh, so that’s why Makoto is so nervous. Without delay, Haruka turns around. Sounds of fabric and clothes are heard, it must be Makoto taking off his clothes. When the noise ceases, Makoto calls him to tell him it’s alright to turn back.

Makoto is wearing the happi, fitting perfectly around his broad shoulders and chest; unlike Haruka it covers him to his mid-thigh just like the servants at Haruka’s household.

“You also must be barefoot so your tabi won’t get wet. Stand on the blanket so they won’t get dirty.”

Haruka obeys and stands on the cover, but when he’s about to crouch to remove his sandals, Makoto interrupts him.

“A—Ah, let me, Sir.” The green-eyed man kneels before him and lifts Haruka’s foot. “You are not used to getting undressed by yourself, right?”

He says as he removes the sandals and the tabi, placing the next to the folded yukata. “You must have servants that do that for you.”

Haruka indeed have servants that help him getting undressed and dressed, although the Feudal Son is finding Makoto annoying and meddlesome. Makoto isn’t his servant and he definitely didn’t ask him to do this for him.

Haruka likes whatever they have because Makoto treats him like an individual and with respect, not like the son of the Feudal Lord Nanase. The black-haired man removes away his feet hastily, making Makoto look up at him with a surprised look.

The brunette smiles before speaking, “Sorry, Sir.”

Pleased with himself, Haruka continues what Makoto started.

When everything is set and placed, Makoto walks to the river, standing on its border and looking the running water for a moment. Haruka can’t put a finger on it, but something feels odd about how Makoto is acting.

It’s like Makoto wants to show Haruka about the water but at the same time he doesn’t.

“Alright,” Makoto says as he turns around to face the blue eyes. “Let’s begin, shall we?”

He offers his hand to Haruka. He gulps before taking the gesture, feeling suddenly nervous. It’s the first time he tries something as daring as this. He’s excited but he’s so scared about it.

“Don’t worry,” Makoto tries to calm him down, “I’m here with you.”

Makoto takes a step back finally putting a foot in the water. Haruka can hear how the water flows around Makoto’s foot.

“Wow, it’s cold!” Makoto comments as his body trembles a little, laughing. “Be careful, Sir.”

Soon the cold water is touching Haruka’s feet, prompting the dark-haired man to hold himself of Makoto’s shoulder with his free hand. Haruka’s whole body is trembling but he doesn’t know if it’s because he’s dying of excitement or fear. The coldness begins to travel through his legs, to his gut, until it gets to his chest, making his heart beat without control.

“Sir,” he hears from Makoto. “I’m with you, hold onto me.”

He immediately takes the advice, holding onto Makoto with both arms by his neck. The water roars around them by the sudden movement, it sounds angry to Haruka’s ears and he’s afraid that he has offended or insulted the water without thinking about it. Is the water mad at him for daring to enter on its territory?

His heart is beating so hard and loudly he has trouble to hear to anything else, even if he knows Makoto is calling him and trying to calm him down. He feels like drowning with his head out of the wild and cold water, his lungs not breathing the sufficient air to help him live.

It’s cold, so cold—

“Haruka!”

Strong arms surround tightly him by the waist.

It’s warm.

“Haruka, it’s alright. Don’t worry.” Makoto’s soft voice dances inside his ears. “I’m here with you. I won’t let anything happen to you, Haruka.”

His heart is yelling, his mind is yelling too, but something deep inside of him yells harder to trust the countryman that just called his name and to leave himself to his hands.

Haruka nods, uncertain.

The water covers them to Haruka’s middle, so his legs are trembling because of the cold crystal body, but Makoto is warm. Haruka feels small again, embraced between Makoto’s arms with confidence and force to reassure him that he isn’t alone.

To try to calm himself down, Haruka leans his forehead in the space between Makoto’s neck and shoulder. A familiar scent invades his nose.

It smells of soil, of sun, and something else. With that something else being stronger than ever. It’s clear and obvious now that Haruka thinks about it.

That something else that Haruka smells is Makoto himself.

His heart continues to yell although Haruka is sure that it isn’t because of the wild water trying to take him anymore.

“Are you alright, Si—“

“Haruka.”

He says to not let Makoto finish his line. Makoto’s body tenses for a moment. Haruka doesn’t know if what he feels in his chest is his own heart or Makoto’s hitting against him with force.

“Haruka,” the brunette repeats with a voice that makes Haruka’s ears ring, while his arms tightens even more around him. “Haruka.”

His name sounds like a mantra, a prayer said on his honor and to his existence. It takes his breathe away without Haruka comprehending why that happens only when this simple man calls him.

Haruka trembles when he feels Makoto’s nose caressing his black hair, his lips positioned firmly against Haruka’s head.

“You smell nice, Haruka,” Makoto murmurs against his hair with a soft voice that is enough to make Haruka vibrate. “Really nice. Like your yukata, Haruka.”

One of Makoto’s hands travels over Haruka’s back to find its place on his shoulder.

Haruka is no stranger to what’s happening with himself. The hotness inside his chest going slowly to the lower part of his body is nothing new in his life, but this, this weird desire to be closer to Makoto, this yearning and longing for more it’s more than new.

“Makoto,” he whispers when he feels the countryman’s nose breathe over his hair. Makoto’s lowers his head as soon as his voice leaves his lips, though, burying himself on Haruka’s neck.

“Haruka.” Makoto’s voice is breathy against his ear, sending more chills through his spine. “I wanna—I wanna… but can I?”

His voice is trembling and a pitch deeper than normal.

“Can I touch you, Haruka? Will you let me?” Makoto’s hands tighten around him once more. Haruka feels himself weak, his legs failing him but Makoto’s strong arms sustain his standing like a lifeline.

He can’t find his voice, so Haruka just nods weakly to what Makoto groans softly, making his skin tingle. Makoto’s hand that is poised on Haruka’s shoulder soon is traveling again over the Feudal Son’s back with a slow pace. It feels gentle but Haruka can sense the force and power that hand carries as if nothing. The other hand leaves him – making Haruka’s grip on Makoto’s shoulders stronger – to join the first one to caress Haruka’s back.

“How—How much, Haruka?” Makoto asks him but Haruka can’t find himself to reply when he hears his name again, “Haruka, how much can I touch you?”

Before Haruka can do anything, both of Makoto’s hands go lower through his back, bordering the fine line between the small and his buttocks.

“Everything, Haruka? Can I touch everything?”

Makoto’s breathe is as uneasy as Haruka’s at this point. For a moment Haruka wonders if Makoto’s heart is pumping as wildly as his own is, or if his hands are as sweaty as his, or if his legs are shaking as his. But, ultimately, that isn’t of importance right now to Haruka’s mind.

Haruka nods.

Another groan escapes from Makoto’s lips, finally moving his hands over the smaller man’s buttocks, tightening his grip over them. This time even Haruka’s voice is heard with a small whimper.

“Haruka, Haruka…” Makoto also whimpers on his ear. “I love saying your name, Haruka…”

His hips are moved forwards, and Haruka feels himself hard against Makoto’s hardness. The air goes out of his lungs to leave him with nothing again, it happens every time Makoto makes him move his hips.

“Every—Every night I would say your name, Haruka.” It’s a confession that makes Haruka vibrate, “When I’m alone I say your name, Haruka.”

The called man moans out of himself to be replied with a groan coming from Makoto.

“And your voice… I dream with it, Haruka. Whenever you talk is…”

Makoto moves Haruka’s hips closer to him, prompting him to moan more with the grinding of their crotches.

“Yes, like that, Haruka. Just like that.” Makoto sounds needy for more, almost desperate. “Haruka, could you say my name? Please? I wanna hear you.”

His throat feels dry, unable to emit any other sound than the gasps and moans that escape from his lungs without problem. Still, Haruka licks his lips.

“Ma—Makoto,” He says, his ears burning in embarrassment when discovering his voice is a mess of moans. Thankfully he isn’t alone when Makoto moans too, right into his ear.

“Good, so good, Haruka.”

Makoto’s hand holds one of his legs, pulling it around his hips to make him get even closer. For the first time after what it feels like an eternity, Makoto straightens his back to see Haruka into his blue eyes. Makoto’s green orbs are blown and dark, and Haruka feels trapped by them but he doesn’t care about ever escaping.

“Can I kiss you, Haruka?”

Kissing is something Haruka’s people don’t do. Kissing is something Haruka’s people find unrefined. Kissing is something Haruka’s people think is barbaric.

And yet Haruka finds himself wishing for Makoto’s lips.

It’s Haruka who links their lips for the first time. It feels wet and cold, but so good that Haruka doesn’t want to stop. Neither does Makoto because he bites Haruka’s lower lips, requesting for more that the blue-eyed man delivers promptly.

Makoto’s hand slowly caresses his leg, going underneath the happi until it reaches the fundoshi strap. Makoto breaks the kiss to press his forehead on Haruka’s, looking directly into the half-lidded blue eyes.

“Can I, Haruka?” His voice sounds raspy and hasty, nothing alike the calm and soft voice he tells stories with. Haruka likes this new voice very much.

Haruka nods quickly.

The fundoshi is easily untied with Makoto’s masterful hand to just be left to the river’s will, taking it away with the current. Haruka doesn’t mind at all, he has plenty of those back at his room. But what a surprise is for him when Makoto starts to undo his own underwear, also leaving the cloth to drift away from them. Makoto’s hands position themselves again on Haruka’s butt repeating the rocking motion of his hips.

Their fronts are now touching without anything between them. Haruka feels how hot Makoto is even with the water covering their lower parts.

“Ha—Haruka, it feels so good. Do you feel good?”

Makoto is so close to his body that Haruka is able to feel how the other man is trembling, or is Haruka the one trembling? Their bodies are so close it doesn’t matter anymore as they are sharing the same air and the same space.

“Ma—Makoto!”

He’s being loud and he knows it. His voice becomes a beast desperate to be released from the cage that his throat is, full of lustful desire for more, to receive more and more that he will accept without question if it comes from Makoto. From his hands, from his body and from his voice, everything that Makoto has to offer Haruka will take it to cherish it.

“My name, Haruka,” Makoto whimpers between kisses that he’s spreading on Haruka’s once-untouched skin of his neck, “Please say my name.”

Before Haruka knows it he is the one moving his hips on his own accord, looking to be closer to Makoto to steal from pleasure from his body. His movement is well received by a groan of Makoto’s and his own hips also moving in slow motions.

Everything has to end at a moment, and a tight feeling inside his gut tells him this moment is about to happen. His fingers barely touching the promised sky as a signal of this. Just a bit more, just a little more and Haruka will touch it.

“Makoto!...” his voice is a mere mewl, breaking through the air up to the darkness above their heads when he releases the tension of his body with white strokes of hot liquid coming from him.

Haruka melts merging with the dark sky, taking the stars behind his eyelids and giving his voice as an offering of himself to any close spirit willing to take his life. Thankfully Makoto holds him tighter so his soul doesn’t go away from his earthly body, and when it’s Makoto’s turn to caress the vast sky it’s Haruka who holds him closer to not lose him.

Their hasty breathes is everything they can hear, the evidence to prove that what just happened wasn’t an illusion caused by the moon’s spell and the stars’ whisperings.

Slowly but steadily Haruka regains his senses back to his body, with the coldness of the water finally marking his skin to make him remember how human he actually is. Makoto is still holding him close, his breathing directly next to Haruka’s ear, it sounds like a lull tempting him into a dark pit with no rock bottom, unknown and mysterious in a way that simple words can’t begin to describe so he doesn’t try to.

“Haruka…” Makoto’s voice becomes a light in the middle of the eternal falling, bringing him back to the present time to prevent him from sinking deeper. His body trembles one last time. “A—Ah! The water is cold, we should go out...”

Makoto separates his body from Haruka, leaving him cold within the crystal clear water. They walk outside the river, their bodies are heavy from wearing the wet happis and suddenly Haruka feels so unprotected and small.

What did just happen? What did he do with this simple countryman?

His blood rushes through his veins rapidly, with a force that makes him afraid of having a heart attack. Without waiting for Makoto to say anything else, Haruka puts on his sandals. He has to go away as soon as possible, he has to escape from whatever just happened.

“Ha—Haruka, is something wrong?” Makoto looks afraid; of what? Haruka doesn’t know, but he won’t stay to find out.

He runs and runs, as fast as his wobbly and cold legs permit him, not listening to the voice who keeps calling him by his name. Another prayer, but this time Haruka is too afraid to answer to them.

It’s just when he gets home that he realizes he left his yukata over the blanket, neatly folded next to Makoto’s clothes.

✿

The next moon Haruka doesn’t respond to the river’s tempting call. The water’s song, calm and addictive, returns to his ears every time he closes his eyes to have privacy inside his thoughts. But even there – inside the darkness of his mind – his world is filled with a green sea full of stars as wide as the universe above his head.

That green sea also calls him, and it continues to do so for the next seven moons, it calls his name with an inviting whisper and promises of something more and deeper than anything he can expect from anyone. A part of Haruka wants to accept the enticing calling, to submerge on the green starry waves and let them take him away from anything else, but he’s also afraid of losing himself in the confines of an unknown place.

Still, Haruka notices how his name slowly becomes something he despises. Every time his father or mother pronounces it, it feels like a cold stab on the stomach; even when the servants call him “Young Sir Haruka”. His name becomes a nuisance he has to carry around like punishment for a not so forgotten sin.

And yet, Haruka finds himself every night sitting on his bedroom floor next to the window to look at the moon, the same moon who is the major witness of his daring action, of his daring sin that is consuming his thoughts every minute of his day and night.

Worst of it all is that the young Feudal Son yearns for more. His body remembers what if feels like to be embraced, to be touched, to be worshiped and it desires to repeat the whole scenario from memory, provoking Haruka with charming trembles down his spine.

It’s at the eighth moon that Haruka lets himself fall into the river’s trap.

✿

That night there is not moon to guide Haruka’s steps, the astral body deciding to cover itself in darkness as it does every month without failing, but his feet don’t need the light coming from the sky because his body blindly knows the way as if it’s written with black ink and a needle, tattooed on his heart for eternity.

The warm light is visible in the far horizon for the blue gems that are Haruka’s eyes. His heart reacts immediately, jumping wildly as a hare being persecuted by a predator, hoping to escape from the bigger animal’s fangs and a certain death. Or maybe his heart is, in fact, excited to see the light in the middle of the dark forest, calming his mind but making his guts twist in anticipation.

Haruka never doubted that he would find the countryman near the river, and yet his breathe still stops the moment he lays his eyes on the broad back. Taking cover behind a tree, Haruka observes the bigger man whom for some reason doesn’t look as confident and strong as he did last week. Did something happen in the last few days? Did something disrupt Makoto’s life? Or… is it Haruka’s fault?

A stroke of red is painted on his face at the memory of gasps, moans and breathy names being called. Did Haruka’s hasty retreat – escape – hurt Makoto somehow? It wouldn’t be surprising.

But how else could Haruka had reacted? It’s the first time he did something like that with someone else, it’s the first time his body was being touched in such intimate way, and it’s the first time his name sounded more like a prayer than a mundane thing to call him with.

Taking a deep breathe to muster bravery, Haruka takes a step forward and walks slowly, silent like a ghost not wanting to be discovered but at the same time his heart is screaming Makoto’s name because he wants to be seen with those green eyes.

“Makoto.”

His heart achieves to make him speak, his voice dry and painful with fear. The called stranger turns around and stands up in a second, his face reflecting surprise and incredulity that is soon replaced by gratitude and relief as soon as the green meets the blue eyes.

“Ha—Sir.” Makoto’s eyes look down. It hurts Haruka’s heart to see him like that, wanting to reach out to caress Makoto’s cheek, nonetheless he must restrain himself.

“Haruka,” he insists anyways. Because his name is a punishment whenever anyone else says it, because his name is worshiped whenever Makoto says it.

Makoto stares at him, incredulous, making him feel as if he’s being read. Haruka doesn’t mind Makoto reading his mind and soul, he isn’t afraid of what the countryman may find mainly because as of lately everything that has been inside of him are thoughts of green starred seas and waves.  

“Ha—Haruka,” Makoto repeats after gulping once, his smile shy and unsure, and his fingers nervously fretting. “A—Ah, last week… last week you forgot your yukata,” the man crouches to pick of a wooden box from the ground. Haruka realizes that Makoto was sitting over the same blanket that he had brought that night.

“I thought that maybe I should clean it, but…” Makoto offers the box to Haruka, “But I don’t know a thing about washing expensive yukatas...”

Haruka takes the box and opens it to find his yukata, once again neatly folded with the obi and his tabi over it. The dark-haired man closes the box and looks towards Makoto, who is still staring at him intensively. A shudder goes down his back.

“So… uhm…”

Makoto begins speaking but quiets down, clearly nervous around Haruka to act normal or as he used to. Is he afraid of Haruka? The idea is laughable taking into consideration that Makoto is evidently stronger than him. How could he make Makoto understand that, even if Haruka himself doesn’t know how to act now, things between them shouldn’t change for whatever thing they did in the past?

Looking down at the blanket, Haruka walks to it to finally sit down with the same elegance he was taught with, his legs folded under him and the box on his lap. He doesn’t turn his gaze to Makoto but he can feel the green eyes fixed on him. After a moment, Makoto lets go what sounds like a sigh and sits down on the same blanket.

They stay in silence; for how long? Haruka doesn’t know, but it’s long enough for him to start feeling uneasy and nervous. He doesn’t want his visits to turn into this, into something that he becomes afraid of because he doesn’t know what to do. He has always been a solitary man, a man of deep thoughts and few words, so the art of conversation is something he isn’t a master of.

“Makoto.”

Still, he tries. Not looking at Makoto but knowing that he’s still being observed with such intensity that his guts are burning and twisting, that his hands are trembling, and that his heart is still yelling Makoto’s name like a curse.

His blue eyes turn to the sky to be met with darkness and no moon.

“We don’t have a moon tonight,” Makoto speaks finally, bringing Haruka a little smile to his lips. Makoto once again read through his silent mask. “Now that I think about it… I never finished my story, right?”

Haruka looks at him, finding green eyes full of stars watching him.

◯

_“A challenge, my Moon?”_

The man questions, cautious of offending the center of his love. “Anything that you wish for, Moon. Any challenge that you decide for, I will fulfill it to prove to you my eternal love, my eternal emotion, my eternal yearning. My Moon, just speak and I shall comply without complaint.”

The moon stays silent, meditating the options and analyzing the consequences that the words may carry.

 _“Simple human, before anything else, I must warn you,”_ the moon speaks with a soft voice, like a lullaby meant to calm every sad soul or angry spirit in the land. _“The first to love me, you are not. Before you many men, women and in between have swore their eternal love for me, saying that their lives are meant to be with me, saying that their hearts are pure from vile intentions.”_

_“I know I’m not the first to love you, my Moon, and I know I won’t be the last. As you are eternal, and beautiful, and perfect, but I’m just a mere and simple human who will close his eyes one day, to never open them again after giving my last breath in your honor.”_

The young man says with his heart full of honest words that he hopes they can reach to the moon.

_“Then, simple human, I will ask you to give me the most precious gift you can find. Give your present to me and I shall believe your words and deem you worthy of loving me.”_

_“Moon, oh, my Moon, how will I ever find such a marvelous thing? Something that is worthy of you simply can’t exist in this simple and human land.”_

_“You shall try and go in its search. When you find it, call my name with your lips. Until then you shall not pronounce a word to me.”_

The human’s heart cries and so do his eyes, crystal tears falling from his cheeks because he can’t imagine a life of not talking to the moon. But if the moon requests, the man will follow every word his beloved says.

Like that, with his heart full of hope and his eyes full of illusion, the man starts his travel and his adventure to look for the perfect present for the perfect Moon. Although he doesn’t know when he will come back to the place he was born, he’s willing to leave everything behind in order to prove how deep his love is.

◯

The crickets sing their song with joy and happiness, not caring about whom they could bother or annoy because they are on their own celebration of life. Life is beautiful, they sing, life is short, they know, life must be celebrated, they conclude.

For a moment, this jubilee to life and existence is everything Haruka can hear with Makoto’s lips now silent. Makoto is looking at the blanket with lost green eyes, his face indecipherable for Haruka to translate into words.

How weird, Haruka feels like Makoto can read him through and thorough, but he feels incompetent to do the same with the other man.

“About last week…” Makoto speaks, his voice deep and unsure. “I—I’m sorry… Ha—Haruka.”

That is a surprise for Haruka. Why is Makoto sorry? When he asked every time if he could advance and Haruka accepted. Ah, it must be because at the end Haruka fled without a word – not that he actually talks much any other day – so now Makoto feels like he did something bad.

Of course it wasn’t bad, but it was new and unknown. It seems logical to think that it would be overwhelming for Haruka and he can admit he isn’t a people person, so he might not react like others would do. Haruka thinks he should say something to make things clear, to make Makoto understand that everything is fine, but talking isn’t his forte and he’s afraid of making everything worse.

“Makoto.”

So he says the only thing he can think of: Makoto’s name. This name that has became something that spins around his mind all day, from when the sun wakes up to when the moon goes to sleep, for the past few days his lips have itched to call this word but had to repress it because it belongs to the forest, to the outside away from his household. This name is Haruka’s secret that he only shares it with the man of green eyes and wide smile.

Makoto looks at him, surprised again to hear Haruka’s lips enunciate his name. The green eyes doesn’t go away from the blue ones, but it’s fine because this is what Haruka wanted.

Haruka wants Makoto to read him, to open his mind like a book and to touch the black kanji lined up inside of it. He allows Makoto to enter his soul to touch it and caress it, he wants Makoto to look inside of him and enjoy the sight of his inner existence.

The brunette looks nervous out of nowhere. Did he read too much? Did Haruka show too much?

His body is possessed by a yearning spirit, Haruka moves his hand to take Makoto’s wrist, never breaking eye contact. His face burns when he realizes this is the first time Haruka has ever looked for contact with anyone else, and maybe Makoto also knows it because soon his face is turning a completely beautiful shade of red.

Makoto gulps and bites his lips before saying, “Ha—Haruka…”

His voice is trembling and Haruka doesn’t know why. Stop being nervous, Makoto, stop being so scared because it’s obvious for everyone – for the every single star, for every single tree, and for the moon in the night sky – that the man of blue eyes also wants this.

“Can I… can I kiss you?”

Haruka doesn’t respond, instead of wasting time with frivolous words that the air loves to consume, Haruka breaks the distance between them, joining their lips on a chaste kiss that feels like redemption and salvation. His soul threatens to escape from his body but is caught when Makoto holds Haruka’s head with his large hands.

“Haruka…” Makoto whispers, his lips still touching the other man’s. His voice sounds like a prayer, done in the middle of a temple to worship his life. “Haruka…”

The black-haired man deems himself addicted to Makoto’s voice, to his calling and to his praying. He wants Makoto to continue saying his name like a mantra under his breathe, only for his ears to hear, only for his heart to jump with. His name is no longer his, or his father’s, or his mother’s, it belongs to Makoto’s lips only and just; because Haruka is certain that the gods created Makoto to be the one to reclaim his name.

The Feudal Son lazily opens his eyes, feeling his eyelids heavy in illusion and reverie, to be welcomed by a sea full of green waves shimmering with a thousand stars that fell from the universe. Makoto’s eyes are beautiful, Haruka has found out, and they make him feel like wanting to dive in to never surface again, to get lost in the depths of the unknown – and yet reassuring – ocean that Makoto is.

“We shouldn’t be doing this, Haruka…” Makoto warns although he still doesn’t move away from Haruka. “You are the son of the Feudal Lord Nanase and I’m… I’m no one.”

Haruka perceives how hurt Makoto is from his words. Even if that’s true, even if Haruka is destined to a life of gold, sunrises and honor, he doesn’t care. What he wants at the second is to be with the man of green eyes and wide smile, the man that holds him dearly in the coldness of the water, the man that says his name with such reverence that makes his soul blush.

Cupping the countryman’s face with both hands, Haruka shakes his head with the slightest of movements, to later lick his lips and touch Makoto’s lips with a chaste kiss that tastes like longing and yearning. When Haruka breaks the kiss and opens his eyes to see Makoto, Haruka marvels at his eyes again, a whole universe exploding inside the green, deep and calm ocean.

Big, strong hands grab the smaller ones with the delicacy of a soft rain over a flower.

“Alright, Haruka,” Makoto says, a mere whisper coming from his lips. “It’s our secret.”

A secret, his heart repeats inside his chest and Haruka curves his lips on a smile.

A secret is easy to conceal. A secret is easy to hide. A secret is easy to guard.

Haruka swears over his heart, over his soul and over his name that Makoto will stay a secret on his life.

✿

Time loves to run away with life. Time and life are like two lovers that never get tired of each other’s presence. Two lovers that enjoy their company and often forget that they continue too fast, too quickly, for humanity and the land to reach their velocity.

The sun sleeps and the moon awakes many, many times, so much that it has become simply impossible to count with fingers how many. The land changes slowly, consequence of time basking in love with life, soon the air is no longer warm caresses but cold touches that make the skin redden and shudder, soon the green carpet of the soil ceases to exist to leave the naked dirt under humanity’s feet. The only thing that never changes is the river – wild, strong and proud – eternally running with its soft and tempting lullaby.

In the middle of this time and life love story, lives another one much less big but not less important.

The Feudal Son and the countryman continue to share their secret between whispers, hushes, and murmurs; silent kisses done in the darkness of the forest, under the moon calming light.

“It’s getting colder and colder each night. Right, Haruka?”

Haruka nods, looking at the horizon where the river flows.

They are under a tall tree, sitting over a thick blanket that Makoto brought, using another one to cover themselves from the cold. Haruka is sitting with his back reclined on Makoto’s chest, surrounded by the brunette’s strong arms, and Makoto is using Haruka’s head to put his chin on. Makoto said this position is the best to don’t get too cold and, even if it’s embarrassing, Haruka has to admit that Makoto’s embrace indeed is warm, flooding his body with constant heat to protect him from the cold’s fangs and claws.

“It’s a shame we can’t get in the water anymore. I know you really like it.”

Haruka sighs at the mention of swimming. Since their first “experience” with water, Makoto and Haruka continued the classes until the water was too cold and they had to stop. The dark-haired man wouldn’t have minded, but Makoto insisted on stopping when Haruka’s skin lips started to slowly take a blue-ish hue.

Blue eyes look down to where Haruka’s and Makoto’s hands are interlaced. He guesses staying like this instead of swimming is also nice.

This thing they have, this relationship, continues to be a secret to the world.

And it’s weird because Haruka sometimes feels the need to scream from the rooftop of his mansion that he is in love with a simple countryman he found one night near the river, but at the same time Haruka wants to take Makoto away from everyone to never share him, to never permit anyone to see his green eyes ever again.

These thoughts often scare Haruka. He knows he’s used to having everything he wants, every single thing that his heart desires for is offered to him without question, but Makoto isn’t a thing. Makoto is a person, with his own wants and dreams, and Haruka shouldn’t think of those things.

Haruka never realized before that he is a jealous person because he never had to feel that way.

“Makoto,” he calls his lover, turning his head to see him smile at the mention of his name.

Haruka still doesn’t talk to him freely. At first the black-haired man felt weird about it, loving someone so much but not sharing words, but Makoto never requested more, he never asked Haruka for more words than the ones he offered by himself; perhaps because Makoto seems to have that innate ability to read his mind.

Why does Haruka not talk more? He doesn’t know exactly. It may be the years of education about not talking with people outside the mansion, or maybe it’s simply his socially awkward nature, Haruka doesn’t have an exact answer.

Makoto chuckles and smiles before talking, “Alright, Haruka.”

The brunette kisses him softly. This is exactly what Haruka wanted the moment he called his name. Makoto once again proves his mind-reading skills over Haruka.

Makoto is always warm. He gives his acceptance without terms or conditions, without asking anything in return from Haruka, he accepts whatever Haruka gives him no matter how little it is – the other night Makoto said Haruka’s smiles are the biggest treasure he could take.

The kiss is slowly broken, no rushing and no hurry, and Haruka opens his eyes. He’s greeted by the always watching green eyes of Makoto.

“I’m so happy with you, Haruka.”

Haruka immediately turns away his face to prevent Makoto from seeing the red color on his cheeks. The Feudal Son is always willing to give Makoto everything, but he still has some trouble accepting everything from Makoto. Makoto is so different from him, and Haruka isn’t even talking about their lives, Makoto can say everything that’s going on his mind, he can recite the emotions filling his pumping heart with ease. Unlike Haruka, Makoto is open and free to give all of himself.

“Hey, Haruka,” the called man looks to the brunette, but the green eyes are now directed to the sky above them. “Do you wanna hear the rest of the story? You know, that one about the man and the moon?”

For some reason Makoto never insisted on finishing the story – until this moment, that is – and Haruka didn’t think much of it, he even thought that the tale was already finished the last time. Haruka looks to the sky, his blue eyes fixed on the big and bright moon that tonight is full.

Haruka nods.

◯

Everyone knows the land is vast and wide, full of mountains, oceans, forests and lakes, endless roads of dirt and stone to follow that can trick and lose people if they don’t pay enough attention.

And this land, this vast and wide land, is full of secrets, of treasures, and of richness. Some are more valuable than others to humanity’s eyes and that’s the main problem. How can someone put worth in something and regard it as correct? Who is that someone to judge and dictate that the gold used to make jewelry, to adorn someone’s body, is more precious than the rice used to cook, to feed someone’s body?

The young man whose heart belongs to the moon has this problem.

Every time he finds something that may be worth enough for his beloved, he decides otherwise, thinking that there must be something even better, more worthy and priceless to present it to the round moon.

He does not fall in desperation as he has hopes to discover a treasure rich enough to offer. He is certain that somewhere around the land exists something perfect enough for his beloved moon.

Or so he thought.

Days pass, weeks pass, years pass, time passes without regards of anything else because time simply doesn’t care about something so frivolous like a man’s love.

His black hair is no more, substituted with silver strands and strokes turning to white; his skin is no longer soft but now is ragged and dry. Not even his eyes have the same sight as in his first days, full of mist and clouds that doesn’t permit him to see beyond his arm.

Time passes and it doesn’t care about the consequences it drives into humanity’s lives.

The old man is alone, resting his tired body over a simple, dirty and damaged blanket on the hard soil in the middle of the forest. His mouth is dry and it hurts to breathe.

_“Oh, my beloved, my beautiful and perfect Moon, I’m sorry for calling you this night when I swore I wouldn’t.”_

The man says with a broken and trembling voice.

_“But I miss you, all these years I have missed you. And tonight, this cold night, I think I may have given my last step.”_

The moon doesn’t answer his pleas, the coldness of the moon’s indifference cutting across the man’s heart like a sword. It’s precise and deathly.

_“Forgive me, my Moon, for I was not able to show you how truth my love for you is. But no treasure that I found was worthy of you, my perfect Moon of white rings. I have nothing left. I left my house, my family, my money and any other possession I had. And I’m here, sick, alone and cold, in front of you, my Moon._

_And for that, to redeem myself and my eternal love for you, I give myself and my last breath to you.”_

In that moment a warm sensation covers him wholly. Every centimeter of his body starts tingling with a feeling of hotness that makes him feel alive again as if something is pulling the numbness out of his being.

He opens his cloudy eyes, and gasps at the image in front of him.

A person, a young person with black skin as dark as coal and as the universe, with long, white hair that flows on life of its own with every little move, white eyes that could read souls, and a white, elegant and long yukata dressing the body.

 _“Do not be afraid,”_ the person says with a voice that echoes deep inside of the old man’s mind, soul and heart. _“For I am your beloved Moon.”_

The moon’s black hands touches the old man’s face, the warm feeling intensifying thorough his body.

_“I gave you a challenge and you accepted without question. I’ve been waiting and waiting for your call.”_

The old man’s clouded eyes begin to water, salty tears full of regret and sadness roll down his wrinkled cheeks.

 _“My Moon, please forgive me,”_ he says, afraid of his cracking, sobbing voice. _“I couldn’t find anything worthy of you, my Moon. You are so perfect and so grand that anything on this world could even compare with you.”_

Surprise invades his heart when the moon smiles softly with white teeth.

_“You found something. You gave me your life, yourself and your last breathe to me.”_

_“I don’t understand, my beloved Moon.”_

Confused, the man trembles when the air is filled with the moon’s joyful laugh.

_“Your life is worthy enough, you are worthy enough, your last breathe is worthy enough.”_

The moon releases the man’s face to interlace black fingers.

_“For, you see, you are human. Born from the soil you are stepping on. And you are worthy of love since the moment you opened your eyes when you were born.”_

The moon takes the old hands with the black ones, delicate and careful, to slowly pull.

_“Come with me, human. Come with me to my domain and live with me eternally.”_

As the moon speaks, the old man feels himself being pulled further and further, the heavy weight of his body left behind like an old carcass to be thrown away and suddenly the pain disappears, it no longer hurts and it no longer feels cold.

He feels light again, he feels young again.

The moon smiles brightly, a smile full of wisdom and knowledge, and takes the renewed man to the universe.

They both live eternally in the dark sky, waking up when the sun goes to sleep, and going to sleep when the sun wakes up.

Day after day and night after night, both the moon and the human live together in happiness.

◯

The river softly sings the lullaby for the forest to hear in silence. All of the audience listens with their full attention; the moon, the stars, the trees, the two men sharing warm under the tree.

Makoto’s breathe is slow, calm and reassuring over Haruka’s dark hair. The strong arms tighten the hold in the middle of Haruka.

“The end.” Makoto says.

Haruka doesn’t reply nor make any move. Makoto takes notice of this and continues talking.

“Did you like it? The story. I think it was kind of nice.”

Haruka’s body trembles when Makoto chuckles above his head. “Kind of sad too, with the man dying, but they were happy in the end. Weren’t they?”

The dark-haired man doesn’t know how to react to the story. He guesses Makoto was trying to portray how true love can be, always willing to give the last breath before sleeping forever, it indeed sounds kind of nice on the tale but in real life something like that would be too extreme. Nonetheless he gets the message, that the man was worthy of the moon the whole time but blinded himself with lowly thoughts of himself.

“I wouldn’t tell this tale to my little siblings, though,” Makoto says and laughs, the ring of it making Haruka’s heart flutter. “It’s too dramatic.”

Haruka’s thin fingers caress slowly Makoto’s hands in agreement.

“You know…” the brunette keeps talking, “Sometimes I feel like the man in the tale.”

That makes Haruka immediately turn around to see Makoto, his blue eyes reflecting evident bother, to which Makoto simply laughs. There’s something that Haruka has learnt on his time with the countryman, and that’s that Makoto sometimes acts as if he isn’t important or worthy of anything, it usually is well hidden under a bright smile but Haruka has come to identify each time the smile is a fake one. He often ignores it in order to wait for Makoto to be the one to speak, to take the first step whenever he is ready to share what is bothering him.

“Sorry, Haruka.”

Makoto buries his face on Haruka’s neck, the tip of his nose touching lightly the skin that makes the dark-haired man shiver.

“It’s just that you are so amazing, Haruka. Sometimes I can’t believe how lucky I am for being with you.”

Haruka feels warm, embarrassment flooding from his stomach and spreading to his face to color it with a bright shade of red.

“Hey, Haruka.”

Makoto’s lips are touching the arch of his ear, making him tremble not because of the cold, but because of the sensation of his voice deep inside his mind.

“Can I tell you something?”

With whatever step that Makoto wants to advance, he asks for permission from Haruka, it’s kind of tiring but the Feudal Son is thankful for it. He’s sure that in the case of his negative, Makoto would accept his word to his heart and stop, but he’s also sure that Makoto would never hurt him.

So, pouring all the trust he can muster from his soul, Haruka nods.

“I love you, Haruka.”

The air inside his body escapes through his thin lips, his heart jumps and convulse like an earthquake, and his mind turns the color of the untouched paper.

What brings him back are Makoto’s arms clenching harder his middle to prevent his soul from escaping through his mouth.

“Haruka, I love you so much. And it makes me so happy to feel like this for you, to have my heart held for you only.”

Haruka wants to yell, he wants to cry, and he wants to scream, yet he doesn’t do any of that. Instead of that, Haruka takes Makoto’s hands on his own, interlacing their fingers, and brings them to his lips to kiss them.

He kisses Makoto’s hands, they feel warm against his cold lips, they are strong and are used to touch his skin to make him gasp and sigh for more.

“Makoto,” Haruka calls him after planting the last kiss, not separating his lips from Makoto’s hand.

“Haruka.”

He can recognize the smile on Makoto’s voice. It’s soft and eternal, forever there for Haruka to take and accept without consequence.

His heart threatens with a hasty escape breaking through his chest, to run far away from the man who provokes such strong reactions on him, but Haruka achieves to take control of the restless organ in order to open his lips again.

“I love you, Makoto.”

Makoto gasps and trembles against Haruka’s back. Haruka soon is surrounded by Makoto’s strong and powerful arms again, filling his existence with warmth and hotness that makes him feel like drowning but that will happily endure it.

“Haruka, Haruka.” Makoto is trembling wholly, his face buried again on Haruka’s neck. “I love you so much, Haruka.”

Kisses are spread in the back of Haruka’s neck, increasing even more warmth on the skin.

“I wanna take you home with me, Haruka. Take you there and love you all night, but right now is not the moment or the time. So, Haruka, when the time comes, will you accept my invitation?”

Haruka nods immediately.

Makoto kisses his lips and doesn’t let him go.

✿

Makoto doesn’t mention anything about loving Haruka all night since that moment for the next months.

Their secret continues to exist, shared only between them and the darkness of the night. Haruka is honestly surprised how anyone hasn’t noticed something weird with him, with his tired yawns and his drowsy eyes, but he guesses it’s because he has always been a shadow in his own mansion, always turned invisible by the grand light that his father the Feudal Lord Nanase is. He doesn’t mind, nonetheless, because the invisibility of the anonymous serves his purpose of meeting with the simple countryman in the silent night.

Is one day, when the snow finally melted and the cold winter ceded its place to the warm spring, and finally to the hot summer, that his father receives a letter from a far away land – a land beyond the forest and the mountains – that brings news that changes whatever Haruka was expecting from the future.

“Matsuoka Rin will be coming in a few days,” his father announces when they are having dinner. He’s looking at Haruka, waiting for a response from those blue eyes.

“Is that so?” Haruka says.

Matsuoka Rin is the son of another Feudal Lord that is friends with his father. How real this friendship actually is, is unknown to Haruka, but he remembers the wild fire that Matsuoka Rin is. They haven’t seen each other since they were just children when Matsuoka Rin’s mother had given birth to a healthy baby girl – Gou –, Haruka had accompanied his mother to pay the woman a visit.

When he met Matsuoka Rin for the first time, Haruka had thought that maybe someone had lighten a fire inside the redhead’s heart, always so alive, vivid, and loud. It wasn’t bad per sé, but Haruka has always been a more tranquil type of person, and soon enough found Matsuoka Rin to be tiring and kind of annoying.

Either way Matsuoka Rin insisted on becoming Haruka’s friend, which was thankfully accepted by Haruka’s mother, and from that moment they became something like pen pals, sharing letters. Matsuoka Rin’s letters are always longer and more talkative, telling Haruka about what he did or what Gou said, unlike Haruka’s letters that are always short and concise. Their relationship could be denominated as “friendship”, but Haruka isn’t so sure about that although he suspects Matsuoka Rin considers him like a friend.

What he doesn’t understand is why Matsuoka Rin decided to come but not tell him about it.

“Aren’t you excited, Haruka?”

Makoto asks him when Haruka tells him about Matsuoka Rin visiting. Both of them lying next to each other on the floor, over the same blanket that Makoto always brings for their reunions, their hands holding, and hair messed up under the moonlight.

“Friends visiting are always good, right?” his smile is soft and calming.

Haruka just shrugs the question. For some reason he can’t shake off the eerie feeling about all of this, about Matsuoka Rin’s sudden visit, and his reasons to decide to do so.

“Say, Haruka…”

Makoto’s free hand travels to the black hair, passing his long fingers through the soft threads with adoration and love. The green eyes, full of sea and stars, don’t leave the blue ones for a second.

“My family will travel to the city tomorrow in the morning, but I’m gonna stay behind to take care of the house.”

Haruka stares at Makoto, waiting for him to continue talking without haste, knowing that Makoto is feeling nervous because his hands are shaking.

“Do you… do you wanna come with me? To my house?”

Memories of an unredeemed promise rush through Haruka’s mind, kisses under a tall tree, with their hands cold, and silent whispers of words of love. He had accepted Makoto’s invitation since that moment, but now it’s happening for real, and his stomach twists like a snake without head. But, in the end, Haruka still knows what his answer is.

Haruka nods, and the universe inside of Makoto’s eyes explodes to brighten even more, along with a smile and a brush of red above his cheeks.

“A—Are you sure? You can always say no, that’s fine by me!”

Haruka narrows his eyes, this making Makoto chuckle. “Yes, yes, I get it, I get it,” the brunette says, “Then I’ll come for you tomorrow night at the same hour, alright?”

The black-haired man nods, to later feel his lips being trapped by Makoto’s in a chaste – but sudden – kiss.

“Sorry, sorry,” Makoto apologizes when he breaks the kiss, “It’s just that I’m so excited! A—Ah, I’ll have to clean the house better… now that I think about it, I wonder what you’ll think of it…”

Sudden doubt fills the green ocean of his eyes, like black mud lurking and spreading through the waves to turn down the stars. Haruka hates that.

He immediately kisses Makoto again in hopes of making him forget about questions and doubts, about unsure feelings of himself and his life. Makoto still doesn’t fully understand that Haruka will accept everything Makoto offers to him if it comes from his heart full of love. It’s not Makoto’s complete fault, though, because Haruka isn’t the craftiest person to send messages through the art of speaking.

So, a kiss should suffice to silence the doubts.

It seems to work because soon Makoto is responding to the kiss, moving his arms to hold him closer, to put their bodies together and share warmth. But, when Haruka is about to whimper for more, the brunette separates himself with a smile. His green eyes are full of clear stars again.

“We should call it a night,” Makoto says, “Tomorrow will be a new one.”

✿

The night doesn’t come fast enough for Haruka. The bright sun makes its way up in the sky, painfully slow that drives Haruka out of his mind with desperation and expectation for time to pass faster than it usually does. He wants to see the moon and the stars twinkling with all their might in the dark sky of the night, so the shadows will cover his steps and his trail to the river to meet with the man of green eyes that says his name with such love and worship.

When the birds stop singing to leave the audience to the beautiful song of the crickets for the night, when the last servant abandons his room for the day, when the mansion is buried in silence and conspiracy, it’s when Haruka steps out of his futon to answer to the calling of the river and his heart.

Escaping the mansion is as easy as ever – Haruka sometimes wonders what is going on the guardians’ heads – and he quickly makes his way through the forest, but what a surprise for him is to not find the warm light of the fire coming from the torch of the countryman, to find himself alone next to the river. Maybe he was over excited with the thought of meeting with Makoto and exited his household before time, he just has to wait, in the meantime Haruka gets closer to the river.

It’s rain season again, therefore the river is as strong and wild as it was last year, when he met Makoto for the first time. The strong current of transparent and cold water keeps eternally running without worry of disturbing the silence of the night. And, in the middle of the river, is the small islet with the twisted tree, but now the tiny blue flowers are back.

With the river as is right at the moment, strong and with force, Makoto refuses to enter the water with Haruka again, saying that it’s dangerous for both of them. Haruka doesn’t mind, but the water continues to call him with soft whispers and lullabies that are tempting to his heart and soul. Looking around to make sure that he indeed is alone, Haruka crouches next to the river and puts his hand inside the water, instantly feeling the coldness on his skin traveling through his arm.

It feels refreshing and energizing.

“Haruka!”

His name being yelled makes him jerk, almost losing his balance, but that he’s able to regain when a strong hand pulls him away from the river taking him by his yukata. When he looks back, he finds Makoto looking at him, angry.

“I’ve told you thousands of times! It’s dangerous to get so close to the river!” Makoto scolds him even more, grabbing him by the bicep and not letting him go. Haruka knows Makoto must be angry, but he still can feel the hand that is holding him by the arm is trembling in fear.

Makoto is afraid of losing him, claimed by the fangs of a cruel destiny in the cold river.

Haruka lowers his eyes to meet the brown dirt, feeling shame for making Makoto worry about him.

“Haruka,” his name is said with a soft whisper, so he looks up to Makoto. The brunette doesn’t look angry anymore, the fear clear and evident on his green eyes, it makes Haruka’s heart to sting painfully. “I don’t wanna lose you like this, please.”

The dark-haired nods silently. With a sigh, Makoto releases Haruka’s arm; he can feel the blood running through his veins again.

“Sorry, it’s just…” Makoto gives up with another sigh, to finally offer Haruka a sincere smile, “Forget it, Haruka. Let’s just go, alright?”

Haruka once again nods.

With their hands interlaced both men walk down the forest, to the village that Haruka has never seen but often hears the servants talk about. He’s excited of knowing new things, of expanding his horizons even if just a little, even if it’s just for a night.

But when they finally arrive to the town in question, Haruka can feel his feet tired and legs heavy, does Makoto walks that distance every night? Just to see him?

Haruka’s heart beats faster.

“It should be alright to just walk,” Makoto says before entering the town, “It’s already pretty late, so no one is outside their house. Besides, your clothes doesn’t attract much attention.”

Haruka had chosen the simplest blue yukata he could find on his belongings, knowing already that the walk wouldn’t be an easy one, but the thread is expensive looking for the really observant and the connoisseur. Haruka just hopes the darkness of the night is enough to cover them up.

They arrive without trouble to Makoto’s house. It’s a small place with one floor outside the town, surrounded by a fence made of wood. Makoto pulls his hand to guide him inside after putting out the flaming torch.

Once they enter the house, Haruka can perceive the dusty scent in the air, coming from the old wood from the household. It’s completely silent and dark, but Makoto can guide them blindly to a room, opening the door and closing it once they are inside.

“I share room with my little siblings,” Makoto says, giggling, “So it’s kind of hard to keep it organized…”

The room is covered with a warm light when Makoto lights a big candle in the corner, allowing Haruka to look around. The room isn’t big either, just enough space to spread three futons for the night – one is already spread, making Haruka’s knees shiver, and next to it is a small blanket with a bottle of something on it –, and a closet on one side of the wall and a small window in another, permitting the moonlight to enter. In a corner, Haruka sees a little box with various old-looking toys on it. Must be Makoto’s siblings’.

“Haruka.”

He turns around to see Makoto, who is standing next to him, looking at him lovingly with his green eyes.

“At what time do you have to go back?” Makoto asks.

If Makoto would have asked at what hour Haruka **wants** to go back, Haruka would have answered never. But the brunette asked for an hour, and Haruka has to accept that it doesn’t matter how much he wants to stay, he has to go back to his life inside the walls sooner or later.

“The usual,” Haruka answers.

Makoto sighs with a smile, using his hands to hold Haruka’s and lift them to his lips, kissing them without hurry.

“I’ve been thinking about tonight since when I asked you last winter,” Makoto murmurs, not stopping his kisses, “From the moment you told me you love me.”

Haruka feels his face burn with the memory of his voice declaring his love for this man of brown hair. He looks away in hopes of evading Makoto’s eyes from discovering the red color on his cheeks, this brings the brunette to chuckle but Haruka is glad that he doesn’t comment on it.

“Can I kiss you, Haruka?”

Still not looking at Makoto, the Feudal Son nods in silence. Makoto releases his hands to cup his face, in order to make him look at this smile.

“I love you, Haruka.”

Before Haruka could respond to the oath, Makoto links their lips taking his breath away in an instant. It’s superficial and chaste at first, but when Haruka feels Makoto’s hands going down to his back to caress it, he decides he wants more from the brunette, surrounding his neck with both arms to hold him closer.

This would be the second time Makoto touches him beyond his clothes. For some unknown reason, Makoto didn’t touch him again like that time he did on the river, Haruka doesn’t understand why, but he also never asked. Maybe Makoto thought it isn’t appropriate to touch him like that, but then what did make Makoto change his mind?

“I love you, Haruka…”

Makoto’s breathy whisper echoes on Haruka’s ears all the way down to his heart, making him tremble when feeling Makoto’s lips caressing his own with a light touch.

“I love you, Makoto.”

They are so close to each other that Haruka is able to feel Makoto’s body trembling just before tightening his grasp on Haruka’s middle.

Is this the reason Makoto decided otherwise?

Perhaps Makoto was still unsure on Haruka’s feelings for all that time until the black-haired finally confessed his love. It makes sense, with Makoto always thinking about other’s well-being instead of his, he waited for Haruka patiently and calmly; never rushing Haruka’s heart because Makoto wanted him to reach his hand towards him.

He can’t think about it further because Makoto distracts his mind with a passionate kiss, stealing his thoughts to concentrate on him only, and drifting his hands all over Haruka’s back. Slowly, Makoto directs them to the futon, positioning Haruka over it.

“Sit down, Haruka.” Makoto murmurs to his ear.

Haruka obliges without a word, sitting down over his legs as he usually does, and Makoto follows him. Without delay, Makoto continues kissing him but now he bites his lower lip, which makes Haruka whimper softly.

Makoto’s hands go up Haruka’s thighs with leisure, sending shivers through the black-haired man. Suddenly, Makoto breaks the kiss and laughs a little, a gentle chuckle that definitely doesn’t correspond to the atmosphere they have at the moment.

“Sorry, Haruka,” he says, “It’s just…” his green eyes look away for a second to later return to the blue ones, “I’m a little nervous.”

Now that Makoto mentions it Haruka feels the other man’s hands slightly shaking over him, and now that he pays attention he is also shaking a little. Haruka clenches his fists over his knees to try to control the trembling but it’s futile.

“It’s the first time I try something like this,” Makoto says.

Makoto’s confession sincerely takes Haruka by surprise. He had thought that, Makoto being a countryman, he would have engaged in such acts since his teen years as it usually happens. Of course the high class acts the same, with curious looks and touches with another person even before reaching marriage age, but the high society loves to feign elegance and class, fake sentiments of superiority that makes them feel like they are above such animalistic acts. Matsuoka Rin once sent him a letter telling him about a samurai of black hair and teal eyes serving his father, that one night when the samurai was supposed to guard him they found each other in Rin’s chamber between his silk sheets.

Haruka recriminates himself for thinking about Matsuoka Rin in such state.

Haruka himself is a neophyte to this type of dance with someone else, having been dancing by himself all this time, so the uneasy nerves for the unknown also claim his guts and hands.

His silence must have alerted Makoto somehow, because then he talks, “Haruka… don’t tell me…”

Makoto once again has read him like an open book with perfect grammar and calligraphy. Feeling exposed, Haruka looks away, refusing to acknowledge how his guts are twisting with force. His heart jumps when Makoto’s laugh sounds in the room.

“Well, it should be fine like this, right?”

Haruka faces Makoto, and he feels how his lungs stop working as he is being surrounded by green starry waves of ocean, coming from Makoto’s eyes.

“You know, making mistakes and such… it’s alright. I mean, not like I’m expecting you or me to mess it up, but… yeah.”

Makoto’s easy going attitude is contagious, flooding Haruka’s heart with calmness and reassurance. Yes, everything should be fine, they can learn about this weird dance between lovers together.

With that last thought, Haruka reaches over Makoto to kiss him, being immediately rewarded by a whimper coming from the brunette’s throat. In no time, he is covered by Makoto’s body warmth when the green-eyed man makes him lie down over the futon, filling his senses with more than he can take but still wanting and yearning for even more.

His lips are bitten by the other man, trying to convince him to open his mouth that he does without delay. Makoto’s hands commence to roam through his body slowly, with such calmness and patience that it drives Haruka out of his mind because he wants more, and more, until he can’t take it.

“Haruka… you are so beautiful, Haruka…”

The other man’s words enchant his ears like magic that traps his heart and his soul, but that at the same time it feels like being freed from an earthly chain to experience something beyond that.

Makoto is kissing his neck while his strong, big hands caress his legs covered by the yukata’s fabric, going up and up until they find the securely tied obi, where his fingers play with the seam of it. The brunette stops kissing his neck to focus his green eyes on the blue ones, with his eternal smile curving his lips.

“Can I, Haruka?”

Haruka huffs. It’s obvious that of course Makoto can. If Haruka didn’t want this, he would already say so since long ago. So, to make his voice clear, Haruka starts to meddle with Makoto’s obi.

“A—ah, wait, Haruka!” Makoto stops Haruka’s eager hands with his own, his face completely covered with a red color that makes him look endearing, “Let me do this, alright?”

Returning to his task, Makoto unties Haruka’s obi. The soft sounds of the obi being undone reaches Haruka’s ears. Haruka decides to concentrate on Makoto rather than in the sensation in his gut.

Makoto isn’t looking at him but to where the obi is slowly disappearing, his green eyes are shimmering even in the darkness of the room, making Haruka wonder how Makoto does it to make his eyes so tantalizing with so little work. The obi is delicately folded and put out of reach, over the blanket next to the mysterious bottle.

It’s obvious that Makoto has thought of everything, the blanket right there is enough proof, because he wants the experience to occur with as much perfection as he can achieve. Surely because he wants Haruka to never forget it.

By his part, Haruka just lies there, feeling hypnotized with every move that Makoto does over his body. After folding the obi Makoto centers his attention on Haruka again, opening the yukata to reveal the white juban still covering Haruka’s body that is promptly untied with the same adoration as the obi was removed.

Haruka can’t explain what he’s feeling. It feels warm, light, like an out of his body experience to see Makoto treating him with such delicacy and care. It seems like Makoto is afraid of hurting him, but he knows for sure that isn’t the case, it’s more like Makoto wants to taste every phase, every movement, and every reaction he gets from the Feudal Son.

It’s more like Makoto wants Haruka to taste how much love and adoration Makoto has for him.

Haruka’s breathe hitches at the realization, overwhelming his mind with thoughts of affection, desire and yearning for the man above him.

“M—Makoto,” so he calls him, in hopes of being able to transmit what he is feeling towards Makoto, in hopes of his emotions being translated without words for Makoto to understand.

Of course Makoto understands him, he always does, crystal clear as the cold water from the river they met for the first time, because then Makoto leans over him to kiss him on the lips after murmuring his name like a prayer.

The juban is untied blindly by Makoto, but as soon as he finishes, he sits up looking directly at Haruka’s blue and deep eyes. Makoto opens the juban, looking down to Haruka’s body being finally exposed. Haruka shivers when he hears Makoto humming.

“Perfect… you are so perfect, Haruka.”

Makoto’s voice is a mere whisper but it travels hard and loud to Haruka’s beating heart.

“I wanna kiss you whole, Haruka. Can I?”

Haruka would love Makoto to stop making unnecessary questions that make his heart pump without control. Nonetheless, Haruka quickly nods, to which Makoto hums – groans – again lowering his face to kiss the black-haired man’s neck.

Short kisses are spread through his skin, with hot suctions here and there that make his breath stop with each touch, Makoto’s lips get lower and lower through his collarbone to his chest. Haruka’s hands clenches around Makoto’s shoulders, wrinkling the dark green yukata, as a response to what his body is feeling for the first time.

A ghost of a moan escapes from Haruka’s lips when Makoto licks one of his nipples, teasing it with his wet tongue and teeth. The moan is corresponded by a groan coming from Makoto while his hands caresses Haruka’s sides until they touch the fundoshi’s straps that he undoes with known ease. Makoto straightens up, kneeling between Haruka’s legs, to fix his green eyes on the blue ones.

Makoto calmly removes the white thread of the fundoshi to finally uncover Haruka completely. The brunette folds the fundoshi as carefully as he did the obi to later put it over the latter. When Makoto turns around to look at him Haruka forgets how to breath for what seems the hundredth time that night. Makoto’s eyes are dark, blown in deep green, moving through Haruka’s skin slowly as if Haruka himself is a piece of art that should be appreciated with dedication.

Haruka feels himself burn, his body unresponsive to his pleas because everything it wants is for Makoto to get closer, for Makoto to touch him just to ignite even more the fire that is consuming his soul. The black-haired man’s cheeks shine with red as he sees Makoto’s eyes centering on his flushed and already hard member between his legs.

It’s then that the blue eyes look at Makoto’s pelvis, discovering that Makoto is in the same condition of hardness as him, with an obvious bulge on him.

“Haruka.”

His name brings him back from his stupor, looking at the green eyes fixed on him, to be received by a hand extended to him.

“Please, Haruka, sit down.”

Makoto’s voice is husky, low and hoarse, it feels hot in Haruka’s chest. Haruka takes the hand and lets himself be pulled up to sit. As he is pulled up, the yukata falls from his shoulders to pool at the futon at the base of his back. Makoto moans at the sight of Haruka’s skin being uncovered.

“We need to take off your yukata, Haruka,” Makoto whispers to his ear with that new voice of his that makes Haruka addict of his melody.

Haruka nods, lifting his hips to what Makoto takes the opportunity and holds him by the middle to sit him over his lap. Like his, Haruka feels Makoto’s hardness against his groin, making him shiver.

Makoto starts to kiss his shoulders, licking and biting carefully to not leave marks on the delicate skin, while his hands roam freely through Haruka’s back. Haruka, not knowing what to do with himself, hugs Makoto by the neck again also caressing his back even if it’s still clothed.

“Makoto,” he gasps when he feels Makoto’s hands moving lower to his butt, grasping his cheeks. “Ma—Makoto.”

He wants to tell him to continue, that he’s loving everything that Makoto gives him, but that he wants more from him, that he wants Makoto to be as bare as he is right now. To feel his skin against his own without barriers.

“Yes, Haruka, I know.”

Supporting Haruka with an arm, Makoto uses his free hand to remove the yukata and the juban from the futon, to finally lie Haruka down again. Makoto takes his time to fold the expensive yukata, even the simple juban, to place it over the blanket next to them.

He can feel his throat going dry when seeing Makoto’s hands travel to his obi, undoing it and tossing it aside without care of where it lands. To this, Haruka sits and with his hands he takes the hem of Makoto’s yukata and, with a last deep breath, Haruka slowly opens it.

Unlike Haruka, Makoto isn’t wearing a juban, so his skin and his chest are exposed before the blue eyes without obstacles. Makoto’s body is different from his. Makoto’s body seems to be made of gold, his skin kissed by hours under the sun during work, hard muscles that shimmer with sweat and the warm light of the candle. Haruka feels so small in comparison to Makoto, who is big and strong thanks to his life.

The green yukata falls from Makoto’s shoulders slowly, but the brunette doesn’t do anything to retrieve it to fold it; on contrary, Makoto doesn’t move and Haruka suspects it’s because the green-eyed man wants Haruka to take everything he wants. Haruka obliges, passing his hands with soft touches over the tanned skin, a leisurely pace that makes Makoto’s body and breath shiver.

Not resisting the temptation, Haruka kisses Makoto’s collarbone, going up to his neck to give it the same attention.

Small hands travel down Makoto’s abdomen to his fundoshi to undo it too, removing the cotton cloth once he’s done and once again Makoto doesn’t attempt to fold it.

“Haruka!” Makoto whimpers when the called man bites him. Makoto’s arms surround him, pushing him into the futon with his weight, “Ha—Haruka, let me… let me just…”

Makoto opens Haruka’s legs wider, positioning himself between them again, and starts moving his hips against him in slow motions just like he did that last time in the river. Haruka immediately moans, arching his back at the hot sensation of skin against skin, even surrounding Makoto’s hips with his legs to keep him close.

The moans of both men fill the small room; breathy, husky, and unrecognizable voices that cut the silence of the night.

“Haruka…” still, Makoto insists on talking to him, with everything and his stuttering voice full of dark lust, “Haruka, I love you so much, Haruka.”

Again, his name sounds like a prayer in honor of him, it sounds like an oath of worship and eternity. Haruka wants to hear it more, Haruka wants Makoto to never ever stop saying his name like this.

“Ma—Makoto.”

His call is replied by a loud groan buried on his neck, where Makoto is kissing and biting his skin. “Ha—Haruka, my name… my name, say it more, please.”

Haruka doesn’t want anything more than to please Makoto, so he starts calling his lover’s name like a prophecy. Makoto’s movements get faster until he stops with a grunt, resting his weight on both hands to be able to see Haruka fully.

For a second Haruka looks down to where their bodies meet, seeing both members flushed and wet with the leaky liquid  from the red heads. Why did Makoto stop?

“Ha—Haruka,” Makoto calls him to attract his attention. “I—I think I’m ready… are you?”

More memories from Matsuoka Rin’s letter rushes through his mind. Words of pain and uncomfort running from the back of his head, like he can see them plastered on Rin’s letter with the black ink on the white parchment. Following Rin’s letter, it was painful because he and his guard didn’t plan it; it was hasty, rushed, both of them blinded because of the hot lust, but that the pain was worth it once they passed that threshold.

Haruka recriminates himself, again, for thinking about Matsuoka Rin in such state, again.

With a small nod of his head, Haruka announces himself ready. Makoto smiles shyly at him, looking nervous before Haruka’s show of confidence, he then gets on his knees and grabs the bottle from the blanket.

“I did… I did a little of research,” Makoto’s cheeks are flaring red. Haruka is amused at the sight. “With this is supposed to hurt less…”

That promise is enough to interest Haruka to continue further. Makoto opens the little bottle and a scent immediately comes to Haruka’s nose, it smells of oil but he doesn’t know what kind of oil is it – knowing such things isn’t something Haruka should entertain himself with. The brunette pours a little of the substance into his hand, the yellowish liquid covering his long fingers, and when Makoto thinks is enough he closes the bottle again to put on the blanket.

“Tell me if it hurts, yes?”

Haruka again nods, shivering when he feels Makoto’s fingertips reluctantly touching his entrance. Makoto smears the oil over his hole, massaging into it without taking his green eyes off Haruka. Haruka has always been self-confident, always showing and putting on a face full of grace and elegance, but he is finding troublesome to muster the determination to keep himself up when Makoto’s eyes won’t stop observing each movement of his body.

It’s not unpleasant, not at all, but Makoto’s eyes seem to be able to read everything about him, including what Haruka doesn’t know yet about himself.

His breath hitches at the same time Makoto inserts the first finger on him. What would his father think of this scene? Haruka wonders, with his son offering himself to the whims of a countryman he met in the middle of the forest – at least Makoto isn’t a merchant. Matsuoka Rin’s situation is different from his, at least his partner was a samurai.

Haruka seriously needs to stop thinking about Matsuoka Rin in such state. Mainly when Makoto is moving his finger inside him.

“Does it hurt, Haruka?”

Thankfully, Makoto’s voice brings him back from the dubious image of his head.

Haruka shakes his head. It doesn’t hurt, it feels weird to have something in there, a slight pressure inside that might be classified as uncomfortable but nothing else.

“Good,” Makoto smiles, looking honestly relieved of not bringing pain to Haruka in the least.

After a moment, a second finger follows the first, and then a third digit enters the same when Makoto deems it possible. The pressure inside of Haruka now is strong enough to make him tense, but he insists that it doesn’t hurt even though his legs are trembling and tired, and yet his body reacts with a jolt and a moan when Makoto pushes something inside.

“Ah… there it is,” Makoto says while he once again smiles, confidence finally brimming his body, but he doesn’t say anything else to start pushing more right in that spot, bringing out more moans from Haruka.

His body grows hotter with each touch, without understanding why it feels different now that from seconds ago, but he can’t bring himself to care at the moment when Makoto is making feel him so good with so little. It doesn’t matter either, because Haruka knows Makoto is loving this just as much as him when he sees the green eyes half-lidded and yet so bright.

“Ma—Makoto!” The only thing he can muster is Makoto’s name because Makoto right now is everything he can think of.

“Yes, Haruka, like that. Say my name like that.”

Makoto is biting his lips, and decides to use his other hand to touch Haruka thorough his body, pinching one of his nipples. Haruka arches his back at the stimulation on his body.

“Haruka, Haruka… let me hear you, Haruka…”

Haruka loves hearing his name coming from Makoto’s lips just as much as Makoto loves to hear his from Haruka. Each time Makoto says it, it sends shivers down his spine directly to his groin, moving his hips to meet Makoto’s hand. But everything ends too soon when the brunette takes out his fingers from him. Haruka whimpers at the loss of the sensations he just discovered, wanting more of it without stop, but Makoto tries to calm him with a shush and massaging the pinched nipple.

“I know, Haruka, I know…” Makoto’s voice is sinful. Sin reincarnated into something mortal that tempts Haruka to dive in further on it, making him willing and open for more and whatever Makoto asks from him. “Let me just…”

Makoto doesn’t end what he’s saying, instead of that he grabs the bottle containing the oil again. It’s at that moment that Haruka remembers Makoto’s state that he selfishly forgot in the middle of his frenzy.

Haruka sits, wincing a little when he feels his sensitive hole under him, but he wills himself and takes the bottle from Makoto’s hands, under Makoto’s surprised gaze.

“Haruka?”

He hears Makoto confused as he opens the bottle to let the oil flow on his palm, to later leave the recipient over the blanket with the same care as Makoto did. With his blue eyes looking directly to the green ones, Haruka uses his oiled hand to slowly touch – up and down – Makoto’s flushed and hard member, reveling on Makoto’s surprised moan. It feels hot, so hot and painfully hard, against his hand.

Makoto’s mouth hangs open, letting the gasps and moans out freely, and Haruka’s name sometimes escaping through them. Haruka doesn’t let the temptation build up more when his lips feel the necessity to kiss the man before him, to what Makoto corresponds with the same enthusiasm, their tongues exploring each other. Makoto’s kisses are like a drug for Haruka, always wanting more and more, because it’s never enough.

With a push, Makoto slowly lies down over Haruka, stopping the black-haired man’s hand before breaking the kiss, biting Haruka’s lower lips a last time.

“I’m gonna make love to you, Haruka,” Makoto says, his voice hoarse, trembling in desire, but sounding so strong that Haruka trembles, excitement pooling on his gut. Haruka just whimpers loudly, nodding with his head.

It’s a totally different sensation. Feeling himself opening up to something thicker than a few fingers. It indeed is painful, but he doesn’t comment on it, remembering Matsuoka Rin’s words of promised pleasure. Makoto is being slow on purpose to prevent more pain than necessary on Haruka’s body, he’s also kissing his neck, calling his name with soft whispers next to his ear, and promises of eternal love.

After for what is seems an eternity, Makoto starts to move his hips, shallow motions to completely bury himself in Haruka’s heat. Haruka winces again but Makoto’s pleasured moans are enough to ignite his desire.

“Can I—Can I move, Haruka?”

It’s somewhat funny how Makoto is giving Haruka all the power in the situation – then again, Haruka is the one at the top of the social status – but Haruka is thankful for that. The blue-eyed man nods, but Makoto doesn’t start moving, instead of that the brunette grabs Haruka’s knees from behind to open his legs further. Haruka feels his cheeks burning when feeling suddenly exposed.

Like that, Makoto starts moving slowly, careful of sudden jolts of his body. Haruka moans with short breaths, closing his eyes and biting his lips, his body still has to get used to the intrusion and he’s practically praying for it to happen soon. Out of nowhere, a shock makes him open his eyes and moan loudly. Makoto stops moving, and Haruka looks down to him to be met with a smile from the brunette.

The smile doesn’t last long when Makoto starts moving again, this time sending electric shocks through Haruka’s body with each thrust into him when he hits that same spot inside of him.

“Haruka, it feels so good,” Makoto’s voice cracks in the right places, and Haruka feels himself drowning on it every time he says his name. “Haruka, Haruka…”

His body doesn’t feel like his own anymore, he has no control over it and how it reacts with each touch from Makoto, with each thrust of his hips, and his hands strongly holding his knees up.

“Makoto!” He helplessly moans, his voice also a mess because of the pleasure overflowing from his throat. Makoto only replies with a moan of his own, distorting into a whimper, and moving his hips faster.

Using his weight to his advantage, Makoto leans over Haruka, pushing his knees into the futon to open him up more, lifting Haruka’s hips in the process.

“Makoto, Makoto, Makoto!”

Haruka is about to finish and he knows it, tension concentrating on his guts and lower pelvis, Makoto must have read his mind because the brunette pistons his hips harder.

“Yes, Haruka, like that. You wanna come, right? You can do it.” Makoto moans too hasty, almost desperate on his form.

But Haruka doesn’t judge him because he’s feeling just as desperate. He wants to feel the sky just like he did that time when they were in the river. So, with his oiled up hand, Haruka starts to pump himself. In the distance of his pleasure frenzy, Haruka hears Makoto moaning and calling his name.

It doesn’t take much for Haruka to lose what he has left of control over himself, letting the pleasure completely cover him when white and hot strokes of milky liquid gushes out of his flushed member to smear his torso. He hears himself calling Makoto’s name to the sky and Makoto corresponding with his name.

He’s overwhelmed when Makoto continues to move into him without rest or stop, his thrusts becoming uneven and erratic until the brunette moans Haruka’s name loudly, but doesn’t stop moving till he empties himself deep inside of the other man.

Haruka doesn’t know if Makoto is down of his high, but he still pulls him close to him to kiss him, licking his lips and moaning when Makoto kisses him back and biting his lips.

 

The room is silent and hot, traces of a story caressing the wall with a mute promise of eternity. The candle continues in the corner just half a thing of what it used to be, wax pooling on the little metal plate under it, illuminating the space with a warm light.

Haruka is still laying on the futon, with Makoto kneeling on the floor next to him and a wooden bucket with water besides him. Makoto is cleaning Haruka, washing away the stickiness of the sweat – and something else on his abdomen and behind – from his body. Before each pass of the clean rag Makoto kisses his skin with almost divine adoration.

Adoration that Haruka can feel inside of his chest.

He already felt just how much Makoto’s feelings are for him, but now, with what just happened, Haruka feels like Makoto just offered himself completely to him. And not only that, but Haruka feels like he did the same for Makoto, offering his existence for him to take without fear of being hurt.

He wants to stay with Makoto forever.

“Makoto,” he calls the brunette, his breath stopping for a moment when the green eyes focus on him.

“Yes, Haruka?”

“I love you.”

Makoto’s smiles are always bright. Always full of joy, of passion, and love for Haruka. This time it isn’t any different, Makoto smiles brightly at Haruka.

“I love you too, Haruka.”

✿

Moons pass as it naturally does.

The rain season finally ends again, just leaving the river full of force that soon should fade to have tranquil water once again.

Today is the day that Matsuoka Rin arrives to the Nanase household.

The house has been on frenzy since the morning, with the maids and servants preparing everything for his arrival, and his mother supervising everything. Every detail must be perfect, his mother insists; every flower, every rock, every side dish, and every cup of expensive sake and tea. It’s been a while since last time their home received contact from the outside world, therefore his mother is evidently excited for the change of rhythm in their eternally still mansion. That, of course, is only truth for his mother, as Haruka still has traces on his body of the act he participated on with certain countryman inside a dark room with a candle as their only companion.

“Haruka.”

His mother’s calling wakes him up from his stupor – he was lost for a moment inside memories of hot moans – and Haruka looks at her. His mother is surrounded by various maidens, each of them showing her boxes with neatly folded elegant kimonos; she is choosing which one to wear for the visit. The sunlight is entering through the window of her personal chambers, making her perfectly intricate hairstyle shine with the golden brooches.

“Yes, mother?”

Haruka is sitting patiently, a maiden behind him waiting for any order or request coming from him. He’s already changed in his formal clothes, his mother having insisted on wearing something better than their usual – and already elegant – clothing.

“As of lately you’ve been rather… distracted, I would say,” she continues talking, while telling away a maiden with her hand that that kimono isn’t of her present liking. “Are you troubled about something?”

Haruka stares his mother’s back, thinking of an answer. His relationship with his parents is just about normal. They aren’t that close to call it “friendship” or that separated to call it “cold”. Still, it surprises Haruka to find out that his mother notices something off about him.

“No, of course not, mother,” he replies.

“Alright,” his mother answers and he knows for a fact that that will be the last thing said on this issue. “Are you excited about Matsuoka-san’s visit? I wonder if his mother will be coming, I hope so. I would love to have another feminine presence in here.”

She chuckles at the thought.

“Ah, this one will be perfect!” The woman says after momentarily seeing a kimono in a box, “Take it behind.”

The maiden with the chosen kimono bows, closes the box, and silently walks away. His mother turns around to finally face Haruka, still smiling at her decision of what to wear.

“Yes, mother, I’m excited.”

That’s the correct thing to say.

“Wonderful. It’s always nice to have visits, mainly if they are men around your age. I was getting tired of all these old men visiting your father.”

Her voice sounds a little tired and disgusted. Haruka doesn’t have to ponder long to know why. If he – Haruka – has received indecent offers from these men, his mother surely has received just as much. She’s beautiful and young-looking, so she’s used to receive compliments from every guest that pass their threshold to discuss business with Lord Nanase, unfortunately those compliments sometimes twist into something else, just like they do when Haruka is the recipient of said things.

His mother has never complained about this, and Haruka knows she never will because he’s the same as her.

“Haruka, could you please go with your father? I have to change clothes now.”

The young man stands up in silence, bows to his mother, and walks outside the room while being closely followed by the maiden that was behind him. He knows where to find his father easily.

His father, unlike his mother and him, has tasted what the exterior world feels like. He often travels to Kyoto to reunite with other Feudal Lords. So his father, even though he likes to stay at home, prefers much better to walk around the huge gardens to appreciate the trees, the flowers, and the ponds.

Haruka walks to the main garden and he finds Lord Nanase there, guarded by two samurais of his choice that Haruka has never bothered learning their names. When his father sees him, the oldest Nanase smiles while speaking.

“Haruka, does this mean your mother finally chose something to wear?”

“Yes, father, she has,” he replies.

“Excellent! I was starting to worry, Matsuoka-san will be here anytime soon.”

“Her hair is already done.”

“Ah, good news, good news. Let’s go to the main room and wait, shall we?”

The group directs their steps to the inside of the mansion. The main room, as the name suggests, it’s the room where they take the important issues to, be it receiving visitors, discussing business, talking about the household, etcetera. The room is wide and elegant, a few of Haruka’s ink paintings are hanging from the walls, red cushions are on the floor waiting for the important people to sit on them.

“Haruka, do you have any idea of why Matsuoka-san decided to visit?”

His father asks as he sits down in the farthest cushion, at the head of the room, while Haruka takes the cushion to Lord Nanase’s right. Haruka always sits there, his mother taking the left cushion when she’s allowed to attend reunions. The two samurais following them sit behind his father.

“No, father. I’m as surprised as you are,” he answers.

“I see,” the older Nanase puts his hand on his chin, obviously thinking about it, “How weird, it’s so sudden! I had thought that maybe he mentioned something to you in a letter.”

“He didn’t, father.”

“Oh, well, this should be nice, nonetheless! It’s always nice to receive guests… ah, I wonder if his young sister will come.”

He smiles at Haruka, but the young man decides to ignore the playful innuendo. At any case, it wouldn’t surprise him that one day his father will announce that he’s going to marry Matsuoka Gou.

The door slowly slides to reveal his mother, dressed in a blue with golden thread and big, red flowers kimono. Her lips are tinted with a beautiful red color, going accordingly with her pale skin. She walks towards her place next to Lord Nanase, bowing to him once she’s sat.

“My Lord,” she says with a soft voice.

“I see you are ready, Ayumi-san,” his father says, a small smile curving his lips.

“Yes, my Lord, I finally chose this kimono to wear.”

“Is the one I gave you when I traveled to Edo, right?”

“That’s right, my Lord.”

His mother smiles, straightening on her seat, but never meets his father’s eyes. Haruka has never seen his parents fight, but he doesn’t know if that’s any evidence of them getting actually along or them just putting on an act to not fall in shame. He guesses his parents are alright, he has never witnessed a bruise on his mother’s skin, nor has he found her cleaning her tears in the shadows, like he knows of other Feudal Lord’s wives.

The door slides open again, now revealing a servant who immediately bows.

“Matsuoka-san has arrived, my Lord,” the servant says.

“Bring him here,” Lord Nanase replies.

The door shuts closed after that.

“Remind me, Ayumi-san, since when we haven’t seen Matsuoka-san?” he asks.

“I don’t remember about you, my Lord, but Haruka and I visited Matsuoka-san’s mother when his little sister Gou was born.”

When Lord Nanase is about to say something else, the door opens with the same servant behind it, though this time he’s accompanied by two people.

One of them is Matsuoka Rin. His hair is long and red as fire, just like Haruka remembers, tied up elegantly, and his eyes are crimson with a wild light on them. Matsuoka Rin has the same status as Haruka, so he isn’t wearing Feudal Lord’s clothes but an expensive-looking kimono of a gray color.

Behind Matsuoka Rin stands another man. He’s tall, his skin a touch darker than Matsuoka’s, he’s wearing a samurai uniform and a proud sword is tied to his hip.

He has black hair and teal eyes.

Haruka diverts his eyes immediately to prevent his mind of picturing Matsuoka Rin in an indecent state.

“Good morning, Matsuoka-san!” Lord Nanase salutes from his place.

Matsuoka Rin walks over them, with the samurai of black hair following him closely, and sits next to Haruka.

“Good morning, Lord Nanase,” Matsuoka replies, bowing to Lord Nanase, “Good morning, Nanase-san,” this time is directed to Haruka’s mother, “And good morning, Haruka-san.”

Haruka looks up to Matsuoka, meeting his red eyes and big smile.

“Good morning, Rin-san,” he says, bowing the same.

“Let me confess that it was a surprise to read your letter, Matsuoka-san,” Lord Nanase begins the conversation, “I still wonder to what I owe your visit.”

“Oh, no, don’t worry, Lord Nanase,” Matsuoka says, “It’s just that I had a necessity of changing sights. I’m sure you know what I mean, right, Lord Nanase?”

“Yes, of course. Still, I’m honored you decided to spend your time in my household.”

“Well, I also wanted to meet Haruka-san for a while, because talking is the men’s language, isn’t it?”

Haruka almost laughs. Matsuoka has been already here for about five minutes and he has to go further than “good morning” with him yet.

“I hope we will have your presence with us for a few days, yes?”

Matsuoka smiles widely, and Haruka’s blue eyes open up when he sees white, filed teeth grinning at him.

“Of course, Lord Nanase.”

The rest of the evening, the whole family spends it together with Matsuoka Rin and his samurai – whose name is still a mystery for Haruka – until Lord Nanase announces that he has to attend to some official business. With her husband gone, his mother bids farewell too, leaving Matsuoka Rin, his samurai, and Haruka alone in one of the gardens.

“Oof, finally!” Matsuoka says the moment Haruka’s mother is gone. “It’s exhausting to act correctly all the time, isn’t it?”

There it is, the ball of fire and energy that Matsuoka Rin is, threatening to explode and smear everything.

“Alright, Haruka, I have to introduce you.”

Haruka narrows his eyes at Matsuoka Rin saying his name as if nothing. Yet another voice that feels like a burden when it says his name.

“This is Yamazaki Sousuke.” Matsuoka points to the tall man of black hair, “He’s my personal samurai, I’m sure I’ve written about him to you in our letters?”

Matsuoka smirks. Of course he’s sure of that. Haruka had to try hard to forget the details of their affair for weeks because Matsuoka wrote it in great detail.

At least Yamazaki looks surprised and a little flustered at his master’s words.

“So, what do you do for fun in here?” Matsuoka asks, looking around the garden as if the answer is just laying there.

What Haruka would prefer to know is why this man made of fire decided to come out of nowhere to his place. They’ve been penpals for, what, almost ten years or something? And Matsuoka had never shown interest on visiting him. Why the sudden change?

Of course, Haruka will never ask that himself. If Matsuoka decides to tell him, he’ll listen, but he won’t be the one asking reasons.

“We passed a town before getting here,” Matsuoka continues after seeing that Haruka wouldn’t answer his first question, “Is there anything fun there?”

Haruka’s ears perk when Matsuoka mentions the town. It’s Makoto’s town, where he lives, where Haruka sneaked behind shadows and darkness to kiss and swear his love for the man of the green sea full of stars for eyes. Haruka looks at the mansion momentarily, thinking about his father and his rule of Haruka never leaving the walls, maybe Lord Nanase would consider bending his rule a little in order to entertain Matsuoka, if the redhead shows to be interested enough. Sadly, Haruka doesn’t have a clue on how to sell the idea to Matsuoka; the town is just a simple town of farmers. Haruka doesn’t even know if they have a proper tea house, much less something fun to do. At any case, Haruka isn’t interested in such things, he just would like to see Makoto under the bright light of the sun, kissing his tanned skin and making his eyes shine.

“Haruka?” Matsuoka calls him when he doesn’t say anything. “Man, I didn’t believe it was possible for you to be more taciturn in person, but here we are.”

Haruka decides to ignore Matsuoka’s provocation, speaking, “It’s a town of farmers, our mansion’s food ingredients come from there. I… I don’t really know much about it.”

What could he possibly say to attract Matsuoka? To convince him of going to the unknown town that is probably dead boring and dirty, full of country people that would gasp at the mere sight of their expensive clothes.

Contrary to all of Haruka’s expectations, Matsuoka smiles a big grin, showing his filed teeth with proud.

“Sounds like a plan,” the redhead says with his smirk, rapidly walking in the mansion’s direction while being followed by Yamazaki in silence. “Prepare your people, Haruka, we’re going to the town. I’ll talk to Lord Nanase.”

He would be lying if Haruka said he isn’t excited. His father will surely accept Matsuoka’s wish just to please the important visitor, even if Lord Nanase isn’t that keen to let Haruka touch far away floors, because he wouldn’t want Lord Matsuoka realizing that his son, Matsuoka Rin, was denied of something he desired.

Haruka is fast to tell the news to one of the servants, ordering to prepare the carts for a trip to the town. The servant’s eyes widen, actually surprised that the young Feudal Son would leave the mansion, but remains silent to simply bow in respect and obedience.

The carts are prepared quickly. They are closed, black with the Nanase symbol in the back, painted with a golden color, two big wheels in the back to be pulled by manpower from the front. The Nanase family has horses, but they are usually only used for when Lord Nanase has to travel far.

The young man of black hair is standing at the main door of the mansion, seeing how the sun reflects on the shiny black surface of the elegant carts. He asked for two, one for him and his guardian samurai for the trip – a man Haruka doesn’t remember his name –, and the other one for Matsuoka and his samurai Yamazaki.

“Haruka-san,” Matsuoka calls him from behind, polite and cordial in front of other people. The redhead is accompanied by his eternal guardian, but this time Haruka’s parents are following him. A third samurai is behind his father. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, Matsuoka-san,” Haruka answers.

“Please be careful, son, you aren’t used to the outside world,” his mother says, looking seriously worried and afraid of letting him go to the unknown.

“Don’t worry, Ayumi-san, here Miyamoto-san will take care of everything,” his father responded to her, but Haruka is able to see his lips tense with worry.

“Ayumi-san, do not worry, I’ll bring back Nanase-san safely when the trip ends, at the end of the day,” the designated samurai for Haruka says.

The black-haired man doesn’t even care about the town, all he cares about is to see the brunette, even from afar would be perfect.

“Let’s get going.”

The redhead says, clearly excited about the “adventure” they are about to take, before getting into one of the carts to be followed by Yamazaki, closing the door immediately.

For a moment, Haruka wonders if they’ll take the opportunity to get intimate in there.

Haruka frowns. He really should stop thinking about these things before he throws up.

“Nanase-san,” a servant calls him, opening the door of his cart.

Without a word, Haruka gets on the cart to take his place and soon the samurai guarding him enters too.

It shouldn’t be a long ride, maybe an hour if they don’t have any delay because of the road, but Haruka trusts that everything should be fine. He and the samurai stay silent for the entire trip, and for that Haruka is grateful because he simply doesn’t care about maintaining a conversation he isn’t interested to. What is flooding his mind is another thing, is the hopeful chance of him seeing Makoto, although he knows is a wishful thinking and that probably it won’t happen.

 

 

Soon enough, after the minutes pass, they arrive to the town. Through the tiny window Haruka can see the townsfolk staring at their carts with curiosity. Haruka doesn’t blame them, the Nanase family isn’t famous for coming to this specific town, much less with two carts instead of only one for Lord Nanase. So the people must have guessed that someone else besides Lord Nanase is arriving, what a surprise they’ll have when they see that is Haruka, the Feudal Son, who comes down from the cart.

The men pulling their carts were given instruction of going to the only temple in town, a small shrine for the local guardian spirit, and when they arrive there they open the carts.

The sun is bright up in the sky but is soon to start going behind mountains when Haruka steps out of the cart. His plan is simple: entertain Matsuoka for a while in town, but the redhead surely will get bored quickly and then Haruka will casually suggest going to the rice fields, with words of it being the best of the area. Haruka has never seen such fields, but if Makoto is somewhere it must be there.

The group visits the shrine to pray before starting to walk through the town, always under the vigilant eyes of Yamazaki and the other samurai, that Haruka already forgot his name. Matsuoka occupies the silence with his never-ending speaking, commenting about everything they see in the relatively small market, until they stop on a jewelry store.

“Is this jade?” Matsuoka asks the merchant, an old man of long beard who looks really nervous of having such people on his tiny store. Matsuoka is holding a small gemstone, it’s green and it shines beautifully.

“Yes, Sir, it is. It’s from the mainland,” the old man says, rubbing his hands nervously and sweating. “It’s said jade has protective and healing properties.”

Matsuoka analyzes the gemstone, pressing his lips together in a pout, his crimson eyes are fixed on the green rock but then Haruka notices how the red eyes travel for a moment towards Yamazaki, who is also looking at him.

“I’ll take it,” Matsuoka says, taking out the money from the bag hanging from his obi.

“A—Ah! Of course, Sir, of course. Would you like me to put it in a necklace? Or a charm?”

“A charm is fine.”

After waiting for a moment, Matsuoka receives his purchase with a smile, the gemstone now guarded in a tiny pouch with the symbol “luck” written on it. When they step outside the store, the redhead looks around the street.

“I think that was the last store, right? Haruka-san?” he asks the black-haired.

Haruka looks around, discovering that it indeed is the last store, this should be his chance.

“We can go to the rice fields,” he suggests as if nothing, his practiced neutral voice coming to help to show just how much **not** interested he is on the fields. Matsuoka arches an eyebrow at him, finding strange the prompt.

“Why?” He asks.

“It’s the best from the region.”

The redhead stares at him, making him nervous out of nowhere with the intensity of his red eyes. Just answer already.

“Alright,” Matsuoka accepts. Haruka feels his body relaxing away the tension he didn’t know he had, “Where is it?”

“We have to find someone who knows.”

 

Under the sunlight the house looks a little bigger than in the middle of the night. Now the tall trees can be appreciated with their green leaves moving with the soft wind.

Curious stares follow their every move when the carts stop in front of the household. A wooden sign reads “Tachibana” in the threshold.

“I’ll tell the servant to call for the owner,” his samurai says.

“No, I’m going myself.”

The samurai stares at him, but doesn’t stop him. Haruka steps out of the cart when the servant opens the door, being followed by his guardian. The black-haired man looks at the other cart but it’s unmoving. It seems Matsuoka and his samurai aren’t planning on getting down. Whatever.

Haruka walks to the main entrance of the house but he’s suddenly intercepted by two people.

“Who are you?!” A little girl asks.

“You dress really nice,” a little boy comments.

The girl has long, dark brown hair with big, green eyes, while the boy has short, brunette hair with the same color of eyes. They look kind of similar to each other, which surprises Haruka, but what calls his attention is that they vaguely resemble Makoto.

Must be Makoto’s little siblings. Haruka smiles.

Before Haruka can say anything, another voice joins the little ones, this time is a woman who is coming from the back of the house.

“Ren, Ran, who are you—“ the woman stops talking, impressed by the scene, her eyes reflect confusion until she sees the carts with the Nanase symbol. She immediately goes in front of Haruka and bows.

“Nanase-sama, what an honor!” She says to later side-eye the children, who immediately take the hint and bow too. “What could I do for you?”

Haruka is sure that the woman doesn’t actually recognize him, there’s no way of that, but she quickly supposed his name thanks to the carts.

“Is your eldest son here?” He asks.

The woman shakes a little, taken aback for the question, but doesn’t straightens herself.

“His name is Tachibana Makoto, and he lives here, but right now he’s on the fields with his father, Nanase-sama.”

Haruka’s blue eyes widen a little, looking at the sky that is slowly turning orange, Makoto is still working? At what time does he rest before going to the forest to meet with Haruka?

“He is not going to come from the fields until the sun is down, Nanase-sama. If you require him I would be honored to invite you to my humble home,” the woman says.

The black-haired man is about to refuse the invitation when the little girl, who Haruka supposes is Ran, talks, breaking her bowing posture.

“I can take him there, mama!”

“Ran!” The mother scolds her daughter with a whisper for talking out of place.

“That would be perfect,” Haruka says. The impressed woman looks at him. “I would really appreciate it.”

“S—Sure! Ran, Ren, please guide Nanase-sama to our fields, yes?” The woman nervously smiles, putting her hands on both kids’ backs.

The children do as they are told, guiding Haruka’s cart chauffeur through the dirty roads full of soil.

His heart is beating hastily, excited because he will see Makoto sooner than expected, it’s almost impossible to contain what he’s feeling and suddenly he would really like to be alone inside his cart.  

He knows they arrived when he hears Ren’s and Ran’s shouts, calling for his father and his oldest brother.

The cart stops and the door is opened immediately. Haruka steps out of the cart after his guardian, being surrounded by vast fields of green that dance with the wind. But the green that he cares for, the green sea full of stars, is standing in front of him.

Makoto is being pulled from both hands by the children that don’t stop shouting something about a fancy man looking for him. Another man is trotting behind them, just as nervous as the woman in Makoto’s house was.

“This is the man looking for you, brother!” Ran says, jumping without letting go of Makoto’s hand.

“Look how fancy he dresses!” Ren shouts.

Makoto doesn’t reply to any of them. His mouth is hanging open and his green eyes are wide. Haruka looks at him entirely. Makoto’s skin is wet with sweat, he’s wearing a happi with the Tachibana symbol, and a hat of woven rice straw, his hands are dirty with soil. Haruka feels a sudden desire to kiss him.

“Ha—“

“Makoto, what are you doing?!” The older man asks when he gets to them, grabbing Makoto’s head and forcing him into a bow along with him. “Nanase-sama! What an honor!”

The man must be Makoto’s father, he’s as tall as the oldest son. A snort coming from behind makes Haruka look around, he’s met with the redhead and Yamazaki who are observing the scene. At least Matsuoka looks entertained.

Now that Haruka pays close attention, Yamazaki is wearing the charm Matsuoka just bought.

"Papa, Nanase-sama is looking for brother," Ran whispers, apparently finally realizing that Haruka is someone important.

Makoto's father flinches a little, nervous, he doesn't dare to straighten up his pose.

"I—Is that so, Sir?" The man asks, "What would you need my son for?"

"I want to see your fields," the Feudal Son replies.

The oldest Tachibana finally looks at Haruka's blue eyes. Makoto continues to not move.

"It would be an honor, Nanase-sama! Let me just—“

"I want your son to be the one to guide me," Haruka interrupts, using the authoritative voice he always wears when wanting something without question.

"Yes, of course!" The man says, standing up and pulling Makoto from the happi to do the same. It looks so comical that Haruka has to bite his cheek to not laugh. "Makoto, please guide Nanase-sama."

Makoto just nods, his lips tight and his cheeks red – and Haruka knows it's not because of the sun – he’s trembling a little. Is he nervous?

Haruka reminds that this is the first time in a year that Makoto sees him dressed in something more fancy and expensive than his simple yukata. Maybe Makoto is feeling intimidated because of it.

"P–Please, Ha–Nanase-sama," Makoto says and Haruka suppresses a chuckle. "Follow me."

They leave Makoto's father behind, Ran and Ren having decided to join their group, as they walk along the fields. Makoto tries to explain how the rice works, when the season begins and when it ends, he also explains what they do after they harvest the rice. Ren and Ran sometimes makes comments about how the rice should be cooked for it to be delicious.

Yamazaki and Matsuoka are walking behind them. The redhead sometimes asks Makoto things that the green-eyed man answers without trouble.

Although Makoto still looks nervous, Haruka sees how proud of his work he is, always talking with a smile while pointing with his hand to the green fields.

Haruka would love to have more of it.

It doesn't take much, just a simple trip over his feet and a fall to the floor to finish the act.

"Haruka-sama!" His samurai yells, getting close to him in order to help him getting up, but Haruka stops him with a hand.

"Your job is to guard me," he again uses the authoritative voice, to later turn his blue orbs to Makoto, extending his hand to him.

Makoto gulps a bump in his throat, but helps Haruka stand up.

"Are you hurt, Nanase-sama?" The samurai insists.

"My ankle hurts."

"Permit me to–"

Haruka silence him with his hand again, looking at the brunette who just stands there staring at him, confused.

“Help me walk back to my cart,” Haruka orders Makoto.

“Y—Yes!” Makoto actually squeaks at him, passing one of Haruka’s arms behind his neck and his own arm around Haruka’s middle. “Is this alright?”

“It’s perfect.”

Makoto’s face turns red, there’s so much blood on his cheeks that Haruka is afraid he might pass out, but he begins to walk to the cart that isn’t that far away, with the samurai behind them and the children in front. Haruka slightly smiles when he feels Makoto’s thumb caressing the hand from the arm around his neck. They eventually get to the carts, where Makoto’s father is waiting for them and bows in a matter of seconds when he sees them.

“Did something happen, Nanase-sama?” He asks.

“I fell,” he simply replies before getting inside the cart with Makoto’s help. When the brunette is about to move away, Haruka takes him by the wrist to stop him, looking at him directly to the green eyes. “Thanks.”

Makoto at first doesn’t reply, mouth open in disbelief, like he’s about to say something, making Haruka patiently wait for it. But the samurai behind him clears his throat, breaking the moment, and receives a death glare coming from the black-haired man.

On the other cart, Matsuoka and Yamazaki aboard it, not before the redhead gives Makoto a last look over.

The sun goes to rest finally, giving the spotlight to the white moon so the astral body can continue with this eternal solo dance. The stars shine bright, like fireflies flying up and up to never reach the sky’s limit. Along with the night comes the silence, devouring any kind of sound or whisper with its dark fangs, freezing time for just a moment so anyone won’t dare to interrupt the eating beast.

Haruka doesn’t have that problem. The silent beast can continue feasting behind shadows and Haruka isn’t afraid of it because he long ago learnt the language of the silence. With mute movements of his hands, and hushed breathes from his chest, Haruka prepares himself to travel outside.

Outside, to beyond the walls, to where his light is waiting for him next to the river, to where a green sea full of stars and light will receive him with a bright smile.

But, suddenly and out of nowhere, noise appears. Sounds interrupt the silent beast’s feast, and Haruka’s ritual of dressing with a simple yukata instead of his sleeping attire.

It’s abrupt, it’s brusque, it’s curt.

It’s Matsuoka Rin opening his chambers’ door.

“Where are you going?” The man with the  hair of fire asks him, closing the door behind him.

The Feudal Son doesn’t reply at first, he’s way too surprised to see the other man before him in his room, but when he regains his senses, he frowns.

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb with me,” the redhead warns, taking a few steps forward. “It’s the middle of the night and you are wearing a yukata, not your sleeping clothes.”

“Whatever I do in my free time it’s none of your concern.”

Haruka finishes tying the obi around his waist. Even if he says that, he can’t go anywhere if Matsuoka Rin is in the room, and it seems the redhead doesn’t have any plans of stepping back. Now that he thinks of it, where is Yamazaki? Why isn’t he accompanying Matsuoka Rin right now?

With quick steps, Matsuoka Rin traverse the room before Haruka can do something against it, taking him by the wrist and moving him to oblige him to look at the red eyes.

“You are going outside, right?”

Matsuoka Rin’s voice is low, bordering in anger, and his eyes are ardent with fire.

“You are going to meet that countryman, right? The one we met in the rice fields.”

Haruka’s eyes widen, and Matsuoka Rin smirks. “I knew it,” the redhead says.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Haruka tries to defend himself, freeing his wrist from Matsuoka Rin’s powerful grip. “Why would I want to meet with that countryman?”

“Do you seriously think you were able to trick everyone with that act you pulled earlier?” Matsuoka Rin snorts in the end. “It was plain obvious that was your plan all along! The trip to the town, the rice fields, suspiciously knowing where that countryman’s house was, and that pathetic attempt of a fall in the end.”

The black-haired man gulps hard, trying and failing to swallow the hot rock in his throat. His hands are cold and trembling, just like his heart that is also screaming in panic. Was he really that evident?

“Are you out of your mind?” Matsuoka Rin asks, but Haruka is sure this is one of those questions that doesn’t really need an answer, so he remains silent. “Don’t you realize what you are doing?”

Matsuoka Rin’s voice now sounds worried, cautious even, and concerned. What is going on?

“Haruka, listen. I know how difficult our lives can be, being the sons of Feudal Lords.” The redhead stops talking for a moment to pass his hands through his hair, disheveling it in the way. “Mainly for you. Your father is way stricter than mine. And I don’t know how you did it, how you met this guy for the first time, but please…”

Red eyes meet the blue ones.

“Do you really think that guy actually cares about you?”

Something in Matsuoka Rin’s voice burns. It’s hot and it inflames his chest, suffocating his heart with black smoke and ashes. The smoke is so thick it reaches Haru’s blue eyes and threatens them with penetrating pain to make tears flow.

Matsuoka Rin continues speaking. “I know it seems exciting and shit, but—“

“Don’t you dare.”

The redhead quiets down, taken aback by Haru’s sudden words.

“Don’t you dare talk like that about Makoto.”

“Mako—? Shit, you even call him by his first name? How naïve can you be?”

“Silence!”

Haruka steps up towards Matsuoka Rin, his hands balled up in tight fists, and his breathe rash and quick. He stops in front of Matsuoka Rin, who is completely silent with his lips parted and with red eyes wide open.

“I won’t permit you talking badly about him! You don’t know him!” Haruka keeps yelling at the redhead, who in a second grits his sharp teeth.

“And you know him?! He’s just a mere countryman! He’s obviously using you!”

“Who are you to talk?! You are the one fucking his guardian!”

This ignites more fire inside of Matsuoka Rin’s eyes, and Haruka can practically hear the other man’s heart exploding in rage.

“That’s different!” The redhead yells louder, “Sousuke is a samurai, he has honor, unlike that countryman! Besides—!”

“Shut up!” Haruka yells once more.

The door is opened suddenly, shutting up both men. Yamazaki enters quickly, moving like the wind to stand between Haruka and Matsuoka. His teal eyes are glaring at the smaller man, and his hand is well rested on the sword’s grip, ready to attack.

Silence covers them. Haruka’s beating heart is everything he can hear rushing against his ears.

“Besides…” Matsuoka Rin’s voice comes from behind Yamazaki’s huge body. The redhead now sounds more tranquil, but tired. “Sousuke shows his loyalty to me every single day of my life… his whole body is full of scars he earned in the name of protecting me.”

A small hand lands on Yamazaki’s right shoulder, making the man shiver for a moment.

“He loves me, Haruka. He has proved it multiple times.”

The redhead comes from behind Yamazaki, his eyes gleaming with tears and a light red blush on his cheeks.

“That’s how things are, Haruka. You can’t trust somebody just because they treat you well and make you feel good. I’m worried about you. I don’t want you to get hurt just because you didn’t think things through and—“

“I’ll show you.”

Haruka’s voice is just a whisper, but it resounds in the middle of the silence. His shoulders are trembling, and his knuckles are getting white with the force of his fists.

“I’ll show you Makoto’s feelings for me are real.”

The Feudal Son darts outside of the room before Matsuoka says anything else, rushing through the mansion’s passages, and exiting the cage of the walls with the usual ease. His feet cross rapidly the forest under the moon’s light and in no time he sees the warm gleam of fire in the distance.

“Makoto,” he whispers to himself, feeling overwhelmed with an intense need of being embraced by the brunette’s arms.

He runs and runs until he stops before the wild and strong river. A bright smile welcomes him.

“Haruka!”

Makoto is sitting but immediately stands up, hugging Haruka strongly, and kissing his head lovingly.

“I was so surprised when you arrived to the rice field today, Haruka!” Makoto says with a gentle laugh. “Was that redheaded guy Matsuoka-sama? He looks like a nice person.”

Haruka strongly grips his hands onto Makoto’s yukata. Makoto, once again, proofs himself to be able to read him entirely and holds him by his upper arms. Worried green eyes look at the blue ones.

“Is something wrong, Haruka?”

The blue-eyed man doesn’t respond.

The river roars behind Makoto, loud and fierce, untamed and without control. And, in the middle of the crystal animal the river is, resides the little islet with the tiny blue flowers that are dancing with the cold wind of the night.

“Haruka?”

The Feudal Son looks at the green eyes that are trying to read him once again. The blue eyes divert to the sky, and something else immediately calls Haruka’s attention.

The moon.

Bright and proud.

“Do you love me, Makoto?”

He asks without gazing away from the moon to look at his lover, because he knows he couldn’t take the doubt and sadness reflected in those green eyes.

“O—Of course, Haruka,” Makoto’s voice is trembling, and so are his hands on Haruka’s arms. “Why are you asking that?”

“Prove it.”

The blue eyes finally turn down to meet the green ones, and Haruka’s breathe is taken away by how intense Makoto looks. His lips are tense, his eyebrows are frowning, and his eyes shine with determination.

“Anything you ask, Haruka.”

Haruka feels his knees going weak for a moment, and he has to gulp to take control of his body to not fall to the ground.

“The flowers,” Haruka whispers as his lungs doesn’t have air inside, his voice almost inaudible, and his fingers curling on Makoto’s yukata. “Bring me those blue flowers.”

Without another word, Makoto lets go of Haruka and walks to the river, quickly taking off his sandals and tabi to be barefoot. Haruka is left behind, his whole body trembling with the sound of the strong river.

What is he doing?

“No!”

Haruka yells, but Makoto doesn’t stop, he continues to strip off his yukata to only wear the fundoshi. “Makoto, don’t. Don’t do it.”

The Feudal Son runs to Makoto, placing his hands over the man’s shoulder and resting his forehead on the other man’s back. “Makoto, I believe you. Don’t do this.”

He is trembling without control and he hates it.

“No, Haruka. You are right.” Makoto turns around to hold him again by the arms. “You are Nanase Haruka, the only son of Lord Nanase. You are the future Lord of this land, and I’m just… me.”

Makoto smiles softly.

“Let me do this.”

Makoto kisses him on the forehead before facing the river and walking.

Haruka feels cold without Makoto at his side.

The brunette enters the river with precautious steps, never looking back to Haruka. Soon the water is covering his knees, then his pelvis, his abdomen and lastly his chest, leaving his shoulders above the water’s surface. The river growls loudly around the intruder’s body, hitting Makoto with a tremendous force. But the brunette continues with his challenge, not letting nature to slow him down.

Haruka is trembling without control and he hates it.

“Please, come back,” he murmurs to any deity willing to hear his praying, “Please.”

It feels like time stopped to witness what these two humans are doing in the middle of the forest, under the moon’s intense vigilance, because the seconds feel like eternity inside of Haruka’s chest.

Haruka feels like he has reborn when he sees Makoto reaching the little islet, like he is breathing for the first time after been holding back his gasp for forever.

Makoto’s breathing is hasty as he stands up in the islet, raindrops trailing down his golden skin that gleams against the moon’s light. The brunette crouches and takes the blue flowers on his hand. He looks at Haruka, smiling that warm beam of his.

Haruka can’t help it when he smiles back.

Makoto enters the river again, careful of holding the flowers above the river’s level, and starts going back on his steps towards Haruka.

Haruka’s heart is screaming. The only thing he knows is that he wants Makoto to his side, to kiss him and to hold him, to tell him a thousand times how much he loves him, and to ask for forgiveness for his sorry request of blue flowers that he doesn’t even want.

Makoto gasps, and Haruka’s heart falls silent.

The brunette stops his steps in the middle of the way, his lips tight and his eyes looking at something in the furious water. His body is clearly tense, making evident that Makoto is struggling to stay on his feet against the river.

“No,” Haruka whispers, “No, no. Makoto, quick! Come back, quick!”

Haruka is yelling by now, his voice breaking, his eyes hurting with hot pain.

Makoto looks at him, his lips turned in a restraining smile.

In the next second, Makoto disappears before his eyes.

In the next second, Haruka stops breathing.

In the next second, Haruka starts yelling.

“Makoto! Answer me, Makoto!”

His throat burns, making his voice of broken glass, he wants to throw up and he’s sure it’s blood what would come out of his mouth. He looks around hysterically in search of green eyes and brown hair, but finds nothing.

In the distance, he hears a gasp fighting for life.

Looking down the river, meters away from him, Makoto is holding tight to a trunk half submerged in the river. Haruka runs to him rapidly, starting to take off his sandals.

“Makoto!” Haruka yells, “Stay there! I’m coming for you!”

“No!”

The brunette yells back, stopping Haruka altogether.

“Don’t come, Haruka!”

Makoto’s lips are tinted with blue because of the cold water, and a trail of blood goes from his forehead all the way down to his jaw line. He must have hit his head when he was underwater.

Haruka freezes, seeing that the brunette still has the flowers on his hand.

“Forget the flowers, Makoto! Just come back! Makoto!”

His knees fail him, falling to the ground, holding his weight on his hands. Haruka sees how Makoto’s strong arms are barely holding him, quickly losing strength under the river’s cold and fierce pressure.

“Makoto, you have to come back! Ma—“

“I love you, Haruka!”

Blue flowers drop in front of him, disheveled and wet with crystalline pearls of water.

Makoto is smiling, hi arm is up in the air, and strands of brown hair are sticking to his face.

“Forget me not, Haruka.”

The river is a beast. Untamed, wild, fierce, and uncontrollable.

It’s a beast that bites, devours, consumes. Selfish, egoistic, sordid, and vile.

Makoto disappears before Haruka’s eyes. It’s sudden, abrupt, and precipitant.

It doesn’t matter how many times Haruka yells Makoto’s name, his lover doesn’t come back to him.

It doesn’t matter how many tears Haruka cries, his lover doesn’t come back to him.

He stays there, on the floor next to the river that took his love away, crying and yelling.

**  
**  


“Haru!”

**  
**  


The sun is bright and it hurts his eyes. His back is wet with sweat, his chest goes up and down with a hasty breathe that hurts his throat, and his whole body is tense.

“Haru, what’s wrong? Are you ok?”

The blue-eyed man looks to his side.

He finds a green sea full of stars.

“Makoto,” he whispers and it’s painful.

The brunette is next to him, looking worriedly at him, his lips parted and his eyebrows knitted together.

“Did you have a nightmare, Haru?” Makoto asks him.

Haru ignores the questions and turns to his side to strongly hug Makoto by the middle, burrowing his face on Makoto’s neck. Haruka feels himself trembling against Makoto’s body.

That’s right. It was a nightmare. He and Makoto live together in Tokyo. Makoto decided to attend to the University of Tokyo, and Haruka decided to follow him. This is their bedroom. They are on their bed because Makoto said taking a nap was a good idea, and Haru accepted.

“Haru, it’s ok.” Makoto hugs him back, tight and secure, caressing the black hair with a hand. “It was just a nightmare.”

“It felt too real.” Haruka feels tears trailing down his cheeks, wetting Makoto’s t-shirt.

“Mmmh? Is that so? Well…”

Makoto breaks the embrace, smiling at Haru while cleaning his tears with his thumbs.

“I’m real, Haru.”

Haru trembles, feeling like crying again, but instead of that he kisses Makoto.

“I love you, Makoto.”

Haruka whispers against Makoto’s lips.

“And I love you, Haruka.”

**Author's Note:**

> When I livetweeted this story all those months back, lovely [Guramitami did a fanart for it](http://guramitami.tumblr.com/post/115888425229/thanks-aleishadreams-for-beautiful-au)! Thank u, babe!! 
> 
> If your want to post about this fic on tumblr, please tag it as "Forget Me Not AU" or "AleishaDreams"! If you want to talk about it on twitter, tag it as #ForgetMeNotAU or @ me directly.
> 
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated.
> 
> You can also find me on my tumblr [AleishaDreams](http:www.aleishadreams.tumblr.com) and my twitter [ActualAleisha](http:www.twitter.com/actualaleisha)


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